


Symphony Impossible to Play

by Milletrye



Category: Detentionaire (Cartoon)
Genre: Ableism, Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, also ft way too many headcanons, some angst and some fluff and pretty much a bit of everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24751543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milletrye/pseuds/Milletrye
Summary: Not everyone is happy about the existence of the Dudes of Darkness, A Nigma High's infamous rock band - Cyrus's strict lawyer of a father, for one, and Rud's dad as well. Or at least they wouldn't be, because the Dudes are doing whatever they can to keep it a secret from them.But then, one day, the adults find out the band exists. The good news? They believe it's some sort of group playing lame classical music, so they don't mind their sons being a part of it.The bad news? They want to meet Goob and Skeeter, during a shared dinner at some overly fancy restaurant. Goob, who can't stand Cy's father because of how awful he is to his son, and Skeeter, who has just a little bit of a volume problem.Leaving a good impression with that in mind is already unlikely enough, but it's not the worst part of it all. Because they also want the band to perform.And saying no isn't an option.
Relationships: Cyrus Xavier/Goob (Detentionaire)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

Some things just weren't supposed to happen.

The Dudes of Darkness had only been a thing for about a year now, but still, Goob thought he had a pretty solid idea of what his bandmates were like. There was Cyrus, their lead singer, who you would never suspect to come from any kind of messed up family because Cy didn't let his father's strictness get in the way of him having a great time. There was Skeeter, who often turned up the volume of his electric guitar so high that Goob was starting to wonder if his bandmate wasn't just needing his hearing aid for hereditary reasons after all. And there was Rud, their drummer, a big softie inside and out who always found a way to lift the mood when even Cy was stressing himself out for once. Of course, Rud also had to have his doubtful moments from time to time, but Goob couldn't think of a single one he'd witnessed.

Until the day Rud showed up to school all nervous and fidgety and distracted, to the point where he didn't even once raise his hand during home economics class. Sure, Rud was more of the quiet type, generally speaking, but home ec was by far his favorite subject. It wasn't a secret that he was a better cook than all of his bandmates combined.

Goob sat next to him in that class, as always - they were the only DoD in there, and Goob was glad about that whenever Cy told them about yet another mess he and Skeeter had made in _their_ version of that class -, but even though he kept shooting concerned glances at Rud, he didn't feel like asking him about whatever his issue was. The DoD were having a meeting later that day, and he had the feeling Rud would rather tell all three of his bandmates at once, if he did so at all.

Still, Goob felt himself getting more and more restless as the hours crept on. Rud wasn't supposed to be worried about something. At least not outwardly. That was about the same amount of off-putting as if Skeeter was suddenly gonna announce he'd quit the band to work in a library or something.

If even Rud was getting stressed, something was definitely going on.

Which was also made apparent the second their band meeting began that afternoon, because even with his shades on, Goob could tell that Skeeter was giving Rud a weird look. "You okay?", his way too tall bandmate asked in the end.

Rud winced, hesitated, and eventually took a deep breath. "We have a problem", he said, sounding a little sheepish. As if he himself knew that it shouldn't be him of all people to deliver news like that.

"A problem?", Cy echoed, but he managed to keep the panic out of his tone. _For now_ , Goob thought, his own unease multiplying by at least ten.

Rud nodded, and as he kept talking, his high-pitched voice, combined with his awkwardness, made him seem so much younger than he actually was. It wasn't the first time Goob wondered if Rud was ever going to reach the part of puberty where his voice grew all deep and masculine, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted his bandmate to get there. The thought alone was jarring enough. "Zed, um… Zed might have told our parents about the band."

There was an uneasy silence as Goob and the others all stared at him. Zed, the leader of A Nigma High's local group of skaters, was Rud's twin brother, as little as they had in common at first glance. But like Cy's dad, their parents had no idea Rud was in a rock band of all things, or that Zed was spending his free time getting all improper and dirty and whatnot. If they did, they'd tell their kids to stop what they were doing immediately, that was more than obvious to all of them.

And apparently they'd just reached that point.

"Idiot", Goob groaned, because he was all too well aware his other insults wouldn't actually fit. Zed wasn't a jerk, he wouldn't rat out his - by a few minutes - little brother like that, especially since there was no way Rud could've possibly pissed him off enough for such a move. Or at all. No, Zed had probably just lost his train of thought again, randomly mentioning the band to his and Rud's parents without even realizing it. How they had managed to keep things a secret up to now was anyone's guess, honestly. "So that's it? We're done for?", Goob continued, not hiding his frustration. "Because some braindead _pendejo_ couldn't keep his mouth shut?"

Goob wasn't all that in touch with the Mexican side of his family, but he had to admit that Spanish cuss words sure came in handy from time to time. And while the others didn't know what any of them translated to, he was pretty sure they could guess well enough.

With a stab of guilt and worry, he saw Cy shoot him a concerned glance, but his bandmate didn't say anything. It was Skeeter who did.

"Ouch", he said in a half-joking, half-genuine manner before looking at Rud again. "No offense, dude. Though it might help if you told us how much trouble we're in exactly. So, you know, we know how much we're supposed to freak out."

"Right." Rud nodded, forcing a smile onto his face that was so much less comforting than usual. His own gaze shifted to Cy as he talked, not that one could actually see his eyes with all that hair in front of them. "Well, our parents don't know it's a _rock_ band I'm playing in. Zed just ended up spilling that I'm in a band with you, Cy, and that kinda settled it."

"See?", Skeeter grinned immediately. "Your parents know you couldn't possibly do anything scandalous if the son of the oh so amazing and perfectly flawless Ruben Xavier is involved." He shrugged, making a meaningful face at Goob. "Nothing to worry about after all."

There was the underlying "You always make way too big a deal out of everything, dude" that Skeeter's words to him often carried, but Goob, as always, ignored it. This time in particular, because Rud wouldn't have said there was a problem if there wasn't actually one. So he raised an eyebrow at their drummer, the "But?" being as obvious as if he'd said it out loud.

"Yeah, um, but -", Rud began, and just then, Cy's phone vibrated in one of the pockets of his pants. Cy took it out, read the text message he'd apparently received, and then a word Goob had never heard before escaped his mouth in a frustrated mutter.

"I'm guessing that was Greek", Skeeter observed, but Goob didn't care about that, or about whatever the word had meant. The tone of Cy's voice had made it obvious enough. Even more concerned than he already was, Goob walked over to him, glancing over his best friend's shoulder to see what the fuss was about. If Cy minded, he was too taken aback by the message to tell him off.

And the more Goob read on, the more he realized why.

 _Good afternoon, Cyrus_ , it started, with a period at the end that made Goob uncomfortable with its existence alone. The next sentence began on another line, all formal and fancy. _I have just received word from Mr Conasty that his son Rudiger is a member of that band of yours you have mentioned before. It is a pity my schedule has never allowed me to attend one of your performances up to now, but I am happy to tell you that Mr Conasty and I have arranged a shared dinner at the_ Lotus _this Friday evening. We believe this would be a good opportunity for you to perform for a more willing audience than your fellow students, so we invite you and the rest of your band to join us. Ask them if they are available and let me know once you return from school. Rest assured, Mr Conasty and I will assume the costs, so they need not worry about such trivial matters. I would be honored to have them with us._

Who the message was from was more than evident from the text alone, but still, the whole thing was signed as well. _Ruben_ , it read, because this wasn't a guy who could ever bring himself to write _Dad_. Not that anyone actually thought of him as one. This was Ruben Xavier, lawyer first and parent second, and Goob hated him with every fiber of his being. Sure, they'd never actually met - this guy didn't even know Goob existed -, but the way he treated Cyrus was more than enough. Cy couldn't tell him about pretty much anything he was interested in if he didn't want to risk a lecture about how he should stop wasting his time with things that wouldn't get him anywhere in life, and the "band" in that message was the school's lame as hell official band Cy had no interest in joining - but it was the best after school activity to cover up what he was actually doing, so he'd lied to his father about it at some point.

Needless to say, Goob loathed that man, and he had hoped he would never have to deal with him in person, because if he did, he might just end up punching Cy's dad in the face at first sight.

Something that had suddenly become a very real possibility in the foreseeable future.

"What the fuck", was all he could think of saying.

"Hey, now I wanna know what the deal is, too", Skeeter put in, and about a minute later, all four of them were caught up with the message Cy's father had sent. For a moment, neither of them said anything, but then, Goob decided to shoot Skeeter a glare.

"How's that for Nothing to Worry About?"

"Yeah, okay, so I was wrong this _one_ time. Big deal." Skeeter, unlike the rest of them, still seemed mostly unbothered. "Though I still don't see what the problem is. Just tell them we can't make it. Let our two high-class friends here handle this. They know how to pretend to be fancy."

"Yeah, right. As if that's gonna work." For once, Goob actually wanted to agree with Skeeter, but he knew he couldn't. "Sooner or later they'll want to meet us, now that we have _two_ rich and proper dads interested in what we're doing. We can't stall this forever."

"Maybe we could get someone else to pretend to be in the band", Rud suggested, and Goob was starting to get the feeling this meetup was the exact thing he had wanted to tell them about before Cy had received his father's message. "Someone our dads wouldn't mind meeting."

Goob thought about that for a moment. "Emo Joe plays the violin", he remembered, before realizing Cy had hardly said anything so far. Nothing, in fact, since getting the text his dad had sent him. "Cy? What do you think?"

Cy winced at the mention of his name, shaking his head as if clearing it from a momentary daze. His long brown curls bounced around wildly, and he pushed some of them out of his face before he found his voice again. "Maybe we _should_ go. All of us."

"Are you insane?", Goob couldn't help but ask, staring at his friend. "Skeeter's gonna make everyone go deaf the second he gets excited about something, and you'll have to tie me up and gag me so I won't say or do anything even mildly offensive to your dad."

Skeeter snorted, but he also gave Cy a nod. "He's got a point."

"If we can pull this off, we won't have to hide you guys from our parents anymore", Cy insisted. "The music and all, sure, but if we can get them to like you…"

"That'd make everything a lot easier", Rud agreed.

Goob grimaced. "Still an awful lot of ifs. And the elses are fucking intense."

"Better than fucking intensely", Skeeter put in, raising his hands in defense when Goob shot him another glare. "Oh, come on, dude. I'm trying to lighten the mood."

"Yeah, please don't."

"Okay", Cy said with a deep breath, interrupting them both. "I'm not gonna force anyone into doing something they don't wanna do. Let's just each decide if we're up for this or not." He paused, giving Rud a quick glance. "Rud and I are in because our parents would kill us if we weren't. But you guys can say no if you don't wanna risk it."

"And miss out on free rich people food?", Skeeter replied. "Yeah, right. The _Lotus_ is this fancy place downtown, isn't it? This might be my one chance to see that place from the inside. And controlling my volume can't be _that_ hard. I'd be crazy to say no to this."

"You're already crazy, dude", Goob muttered. "What you mean is _sane_."

"Yeah, because _you're_ the right person to talk about sanity."

"Let it go, man." That wasn't Goob, but Cyrus, because Goob was too busy glaring at his taller bandmate. Skeeter had never really been able to understand where he was coming from with his pessimistic - well, depressed, really - outlooks on life, and most of the time he didn't bother hiding his thoughts about how unreasonable they were. But what he'd just said was more than that; it was him being as nervous about the whole situation as the rest of them were. Goob couldn't blame him for being this on edge, but that didn't mean he couldn't glare at him for the shitty remark. That was what it always came down to, after all. Cy's voice, however, snapped him out of it eventually. "Goob?", he asked, giving him a moment to sort out his emotions before he continued talking. "You in or nah?"

It was so easy to say no. So _obvious_. In his mind, Goob knew plain as day that saying no was the only reasonable thing to do in this situation. He wasn't rich, or polite, or anything that would allow him to last several hours in a fancy as hell restaurant in the company of the high and mighty Ruben Xavier, who he'd never heard anything good about but could list so many infuriating aspects of. Yeah, Goob had his kind of suicidal phases from time to time, but he didn't have _this_ much of a death wish, for sure.

And yet, despite it all, he couldn't help but wonder - what if they pulled it off? Cy was right, if they could somehow manage to make his dad believe they were decent company for him, things would end up being so much easier. More than anything, it would take a huge load of stress off Cy's shoulders, and if Goob declined now, he'd never even get that chance. Could he really do that to Cy? To his bandmate, his best friend, his -

No. Of course not. Of course he couldn't let Cy down like that. Screw however much he'd have to try and keep his shit together; in the end, he'd do everything for him.

He owed him as much.

Goob forced a smile onto his face that probably didn't look nearly as confident as he wanted it to. "I'm not gonna leave the rest of the band behind", he said. "Either we all go, or none of us do. And that's not an option."

That was far from the entire truth, of course, but he didn't want Cy to find out about that. Still, his bandmate looked at him with an expression he couldn't read. _Don't mention it, Cy_ , Goob silently begged him… and luckily, he didn't. All he did was nod, dropping a reluctant "Guess I'll tell my dad we're doing it, then" before attempting to get their minds off the whole situation by finally starting their band practice. None of them brought it up again, and eventually, they all headed home as if they hadn't just agreed on the most bullshit idea in the history of the DoD.

It was only halfway back to his apartment building that Goob realized the two fatal things they'd overlooked.

Number one: Cy and Rud's dads wanted them to perform - in front of a high-class audience, no less. So if they didn't want to completely blow their cover, they'd actually have to come up with something appropriate and entirely out of their usual genre in the next three days.

Number two, and also probably the far more pressing issue right now: Goob didn't have anything to wear for the occasion.

At all.


	2. Chapter 2

Goob could guess well enough that Cy would be busy this evening - between somehow getting through that conversation with his dad and relieving his stress by writing new music, he definitely wasn't gonna have the time or the energy to deal with his bandmate's worries. So Goob didn't bother him with the problems that had occurred to him, not until he saw him before class the next morning and gestured him into a less busy hallway with a nod.

He didn't want to confront Cy with his issues right away; instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath. "So, how'd it go with your dad yesterday? Did you tell him we're in?"

"Yeah", Cy said in a tone Goob was all too familiar with. It was the "things were kind of a mess, but hey, I made it through" tone he himself kept using all the time. Cy must have picked it up from him at some point. "He's glad we're doing it, but he also got kinda mad at me that I never told him Rud's in the band, with his dad being my dad's dentist and all." He shrugged half-heartedly. "So I blamed that on my usual forgetfulness and got to hear _that_ lecture I've already heard a million times again. Not my favorite thing in the world, but at least our cover's still intact."

"Geez", Goob replied, wondering yet again how _he_ was supposed to get through an entire evening with Mr Xavier. "Sorry, dude."

Cy cracked a smile at him. "Just the usual conversations. I can handle them by now." He tilted his head a little. "And you? There's something on your mind, right?"

Goob nodded, trying to figure out how to word what was bothering him. He supposed he could leave the song stuff for later, the others should probably have a say in it after all. But there was still the other issue, the one that felt even more awkward bringing up. Sure, Cy was well aware he didn't have all that much money, but talking about it still felt… pathetic, in a way. Especially with all the things Cy had done for him already. "I don't have anything to wear", he said, and kept on rambling before he could really help it. "Like, this is gonna be this really fancy restaurant, right? We're gonna have to look _good_. I can't just show up in beanie and hoodie and all, or in pretty much anything else I have at home. But I can't really buy new stuff, and… and I don't want you to buy me anything either, Cy. I know you could, and that you wouldn't mind, but after all the stuff you already helped me afford… I don't wanna keep being your charity case, dude. You shouldn't have to do this for me. Maybe I shouldn't go after all, maybe you should just get Emo Joe instead and -"

"Hey." Cy had let him talk up to now, listening to him with that kind of worried expression Goob hated seeing on him. But now he'd cut him off, putting a hand on his arm and looking all those seven inches up at him so Goob could see, really _see_ the reassuring look in his warm brown eyes. It was a gesture that shut him up; a gesture that made him pause and wait for whatever Cy was gonna say next. "Nobody has to buy anyone anything", his bandmate told him in the end.

It took Goob a moment to realize Cy was being serious. "You want your dad to see me like _this_?"

"‘Course not", his friend assured him with a bit of an amused chuckle. "But I can just lend you some of my stuff."

This time, Goob couldn't help but snort in disbelief. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a head taller than you. As if you own anything my size."

"I do, actually. My mom bought me some stuff in advance in case I ever get an unexpected growth spurt." Cy smiled up at him. "Dad's basically at court all day today. We can just stop by my place during our double spare later."

Several seconds passed in which Goob couldn't find anything to say. He'd never been to Cy's place before, and now they were gonna do it just like that? So he could borrow some of Cy's clothes - _Cy's_ , of all people? Without at least a three day period for him to brace himself for all these overwhelming experiences in advance?

But then, it wasn't like they really had a choice. It was certainly better than Cy straight up buying him something again, and he _was_ getting excited at the thought of seeing his friend's place after all this time of not wanting to risk any kind of close call. But on Friday, they were probably going to have enough close calls to last a lifetime, so he might as well go all out while he still could.

"I'm in", he said eventually, and the smile Cy gave him in return made it all worth it already.

"Main entrance", his friend decided at the same time as the school bell rang. They flashed another smile at each other, and then they rushed off to their respective classes.

Classes that couldn't be over quickly enough.

* * *

The second the break before his double spare started, Goob was out of his classroom and on his way to the school's main entrance. He couldn't help but hurry, even though he knew Cy was probably gonna be late as usual. They didn't exactly have any time to lose today.

To his surprise, even Cy was aware of that for once; he only needed about five extra minutes to show up. Cy smiled at him, not stopping as he talked. "Ready to go? Then let's catch a streetcar."

Goob had no idea where exactly his bandmate lived - he knew the address, and vaguely where that was in town, but that was about it. So he didn't really say a lot on the matter and instead decided to just tag along with Cy, who also didn't exactly start a conversation until they'd left the streetcar again and walked the rest of the way through a neighborhood Goob had never been to before. And hadn't had a reason to, anyway, with how everyone's cars here alone seemed more expensive than his family's entire apartment.

"You didn't just say yes to all this because of me, right?", Cy asked, and it came so out of nowhere that it took Goob a moment to reply.

"Well, I sure didn't do it because I finally wanted to meet your dad."

That was dodging the question, of course, and of course Cy caught on to that. "You did it to do me a favor", he supposed. "So I wouldn't have that many problems with him anymore."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing", Goob muttered. Was it, though? Had he really just made things worse... _again_ , as his brain was suggesting?

Cy stopped for a moment, shooting him a glance over his shoulder. "I just don't want you to feel like you owe me, dude. You shouldn't do stuff that really makes you uncomfortable just to make _me_ feel better. Your health's more important than me having to keep secrets from my dad from time to time."

"My health's already fucked anyway", Goob said before he could help it, averting his gaze when he saw Cy's expression. Hesitating, he made himself look at his bandmate again. "Look, Cy. You're right, I'm doing this for you more than anything. Because you deserve better than how your dad's treating you. And yeah, I'm not gonna lie, that meeting with him is totally gonna test my limits and all. But I wouldn't have agreed to it if I really didn't think I could do it. And if I think I can pull it off, it's worth a try. Right?"

Cy hesitated as well, but then, to Goob's relief, he cracked a smile again. "Right. Okay, dude, I trust you. But if it gets really bad, promise me you'll try and take a bathroom break or something."

Goob nodded, managing a grin. "Maybe you should just introduce me by saying I'm incontinent."

"Because that'll so make my dad appreciate you." But Cy didn't sound concerned anymore, they were just casually joking around now. Or at least they were until he said, "We're there, by the way."

Immediately, Goob looked around, and he realized Cy had stopped in front of yet another one of the way too fancy buildings in the area. It wasn't an apartment building like the one _he_ lived in, of course; it was an actual house - although "mansion" described it even better. He knew about the stylish modern architecture places like Brad's house were using, but this was different. This was a house built a hundred years ago, if not more, properly renovated but still looking incredibly intriguing with all of those little ornaments on the roof and walls and the garden that surrounded it. Two floors total, and an attic, probably; and Goob saw at least one balcony but could guess there were more on the side facing away from the street. Maybe a patio as well. It was breathtaking, in any case, and Goob probably stared at the whole thing for a solid minute until Cy's voice brought him back to reality.

"Not what you expected?"

"Not really." What else was he supposed to say? His own place was _nothing_ compared to all this. "But it suits you, I guess. Has those classical vibes you dig so much."

Cy nodded, and for a moment Goob thought he looked a little embarrassed. _About how much better off he is compared to me?_ , he wondered, but didn't feel like bringing it up. Instead, he watched as Cy took out his keys and opened the gate that alone looked more fancy than it had any right to, noticing the names on one of the pillars. _Xavier_ , the sign above the mailbox read truthfully enough, but below it was an entire plaque about _Ruben Xavier, Attorney at Law_ , complete with the address and phone number spelled out. Just looking at it made Goob shudder.

"I thought your dad's got his office downtown?", he asked.

"Yeah, the one he shares with Joe's dad and all", Cy explained as he gestured Goob to follow. His voice still had a bit of an awkward sound to it. "But he still does a lot of stuff from home, so I guess that's enough of a reason to put that there."

With a half-hearted shrug, he led Goob through the gate and along the path leading to the actual front door, past some trees and flower beds and, to really sell the fanciness deal, a life-sized statue of some stern-faced woman made from what looked like actual marble.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me", Goob muttered, more in exasperation than jealousy. Not just because of that statue's existence, but because he could well imagine Cy's dad giving him that very look when they met that Friday evening. Or maybe Mr Xavier looked like that all the time; that wouldn't surprise him at this point.

Then he noticed what Cy was doing. As they passed the statue, his bandmate looked up at it with a genuine smile, mouthing something that Goob could guess was something in Greek. "Some goddess of yours?", he figured, being one of the few people who knew about Cy's beliefs.

Cy turned back to him, still smiling. "Pallas Athena", he announced proudly. "Goddess of wisdom and warfare and patron of heroes. My dad wanted a statue to spice up the place, so I convinced him to pick this one. Pretended I've heard about Athena's virtues in class and stuff, and he found them pretty appealing, as you can probably guess. More so than those of the god I really am the closest to - Apollo, with his music and prophecy and all that." He paused, then shook his head slightly. "Sorry, dude. Got carried away with that stuff again."

"I like it when you do that", Goob said without second thought, then buried his hands in his hoodie pockets as he fought his face flushing red.

If Cy noticed his behavior - he had to, seriously -, he didn't let it show and instead headed for the front door again. "Maybe later. We still gotta find you some clothes, remember?"

That didn't really help Goob's embarrassment, but at least Cy was facing the other way now. By the time they had reached the door, his face was a normal color again. He hoped.

Cy didn't mind, in any case; he only unlocked the door and held it open for his bandmate to enter first.

And without any idea what to expect at this point, Goob headed inside.

Inside - that was, at first, a smallish room whose only purpose seemed to be storing Cy and his dad's jackets and shoes and whatnot, which was something Goob's family kind of did all over their corridor because it wasn't like they had any other place to do so. Cy took off his shoes and changed into a pair of slippers, and Goob did the same when his friend handed him some. Even though wearing his shoes at his own place wasn't that much of a deal, it was easy to guess that Cy's dad would freak if they brought any dirt inside, so he didn't exactly want to risk it.

Once they were done, Goob followed Cy further into the building, into a massive hall with its ceiling all the way on the second floor and a winding staircase leading up there, complete with a way too ornamental handrail. The volume of this room alone was probably close to that of Goob's entire apartment, and he couldn't help but stare and slowly shake his head in disbelief. Especially when he reminded himself that Cy and his dad were the only two people living here.

"Jesus Christ", he muttered, as little as he actually believed in that guy.

"Sorry", Cy replied equally quietly, already on his way to the staircase.

"Hey, at least your room isn't gonna be as pretentious", Goob said… and all Cy did in return was quicken his pace as he headed upstairs. As if he couldn't bring himself to agree. Goob frowned, braced himself, and went after him, up the staircase and along the hallway that, after several doors they passed, had another such door at the end of it. Cy waited there until Goob had caught up with him, and with an almost apologetic smile, he led him inside.

The first thing Goob noticed about Cy's room was that, thankfully, it wasn't nearly as massive as the hall earlier. It was only about three times the size of his own room, which wasn't saying much with how laughable that one was.

But then, maybe he should also count the balcony.

That was the second thing he'd noticed. The windows - plural, nothing like Goob's single one - aside, there was a glass door as well, leading right onto a small balcony. Even from where he was standing, Goob could assume the kinda view one must have from there, all trees and flowers and whatever else the Xaviers kept in their garden. He almost wanted to go there, to look around, but something about the whole situation kept him staying in the doorframe.

Still, Cy could tell what had caught his attention, and he gave him another one of his awkward smiles. "It's a nice place for making new music", he said. "Easy to get all inspired and stuff. When Dad isn't home, anyway."

"Yeah, I can imagine." Goob forced himself to look away from the balcony, instead taking in everything else in the room. Cy had one of those beds that'd never fit into his own place, and above it, not some rock band's poster like the ones Goob had put up everywhere, but the print of a photo depicting some sort of tropical beach, overlooked by a kind of fortress. Definitely not a place anywhere here in Canada. "Cyprus?", Goob figured, and Cy nodded.

"Gotta have something on these walls after all. And my dad can't say anything against a place like Nicosia."

"I guess", Goob replied, because what did he know about stuff like that? He hadn't even left the country in like a solid decade. But Cy was right, there wasn't really anything else he'd decorated his room with, and even his desk looked more neat and tidy than Goob would've ever thought him to be capable of. Though with a dad like Ruben Xavier, even a guy like Cy had to figure out how to keep organized, he supposed.

Strangely, however, Goob didn't dread this room as much as he'd thought he would. With the balcony and the photo and everything, even with his dad's strictness in mind, he could imagine Cy really digging the place. "So where do you keep your outfits? In here?"

With that, Goob opened one of the way too many doors of Cy's closet - and was met with a sight he probably should've expected but hadn't. In there, leaning against the back wall, was Cy's trademark guitar, and, piling up next to it, at least a dozen of his iconic top hats. On the smaller shelves, Goob spotted a couple CDs and merchandise from their band and others, a book or two about the Greek and Latin languages, stacks of half-crumpled paper probably full of stuff for new songs, and something that almost seemed like a little shrine. To those ancient gods Cy believed in, Goob figured.

"Guess not", he muttered in response to his own question.

"Suppose I can be glad Dad's respecting my privacy", Cy mused, and Goob couldn't help but wince at the implied accusation.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have -"

"Eh", Cy shrugged, actually not sounding offended at all. "I don't have anything to hide from you, dude. I know you wouldn't judge me or spill it to anyone." His smile was all genuine now, and he opened another one of his closet doors. "Anyway, _here's_ the stuff you're looking for."

Goob closed the door to Cy's secret collection again, heading over to his friend. Soon enough, he had a pretty good view of where Cy kept his outfits, and even at first glance, he spotted at least five different kinds of overly fancy suits and jackets. He could only imagine how often Cy's dad dragged him along to something where that kind of dress code was necessary.

"Oh man", Goob muttered, his vision now occupied by Cy's back as his friend skimmed through the clothing. "So, what's the stuff you're gonna force me to wear?"

"It's just gonna be some high school kids at a restaurant", Cy said, mostly to himself. "No need to overkill. So we can just… yeah. That'll do." Satisfied, he stood up straight again, a dark gray shirt in one hand and some sort of fancy version of his typical black vest in the other. He smiled up at Goob, eyes shining with anticipation, and Goob shot him a nervous smile back. It was hard to deny Cy anything when he was giving him that kind of look.

He eyed the stuff for a moment. "Suppose that works", he decided, although it felt weird to imagine himself in it. Those clothes alone had probably cost more than his entire wardrobe, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd dressed any kind of properly. "Just find me some pants and put it all in a bag so we can head back to school. This place is giving me the creeps."

He hadn't meant to put that last part like that, but luckily, Cy seemed to understand what he'd been trying to say. "Pretty overwhelming, huh? Sorry about that. Although it's probably nothing compared to what Friday's gonna be like."

"Thanks, that totally helps", Goob replied, and when Cy realized he was more joking than bitter, his smile widened.

Or perhaps that was because of what he said next.

"Anyway, we can't leave just yet. You should try these on, you know, so we can make sure they actually fit."

"Here?", Goob asked, his voice showing the signs of just how much that had caught him off-guard. "Now?"

"I mean, if you want to. I can leave you alone for a sec if that helps." 

Great, now Cy thought this whole situation was making him all nervous and shit. Of course it was, but that was a dumb thought to have, Goob knew that. He didn't want Cy to think of him that way. "No, man, you can stay", he managed. "I just - you know. Haven't done this in a while."

"Or ever?", Cy suggested with that amused undertone of his. "Don't worry, I can help you out if you're stuck. I have experience after all."

 _Help you out with what?_ , Goob wondered, and he could swear his face was flushing red again. _Putting on these stylish clothes while I'm standing here half-naked?_ The thought alone was making his heart race, and not even in a way that was entirely bad. Was this Cy's way of telling him how he really felt about him? Or was he just being his usual helpful self? It was always so hard to tell with him. And Goob couldn't just bring it up, because what if Cy _didn't_ feel that way and he ruined their relationship forever with his stupid wishful thinking? But what _was_ he supposed to do? Act like he hadn't read far too much into Cy's words just now?

Realizing he'd kept him waiting, Goob forced himself to take a deep breath. "Alright, dude. Let's see if this works."

He pulled his hoodie over his head, throwing it and his beanie onto the chair by Cy's desk. Goob instantly felt exposed, and he realized with a shudder that this was gonna be yet another problem he'd have to deal with that Friday. Was he supposed to do anything with his hair before then? It was kind of a mess, but hopefully combing it a bit more than usual should do the trick. He grabbed the shirt Cy was handing him, its fabric so different from what he was used to that he hesitated a moment before putting it on. It really was his size, he noticed, and even after buttoning it up, he had to admit that it fit surprisingly well. It still _felt_ weird, sure, but that was just something he'd have to live with for now. Cy, too, was smiling at him, and that was all he needed to see.

"Nice", his bandmate said as he looked him over, in the way that made it obvious he meant so much more than just that. He handed Goob the vest as well, then immediately turned back to his closet to look for the right kind of pants.

Goob used that moment to put on the vest, finishing his fumbling with the buttons just as Cy turned around again.

"Gods, dude, you look sick", Cy told him, chuckling as he realized what he'd just said. "In a good way, I mean. Doubt anyone at school would even recognize you."

"That's kinda the plan, isn't it?", Goob replied as he set to the task of changing into those formal black pants so unlike the ripped ones he usually wore. "Me looking and acting so different from normal that your dad's gonna buy that I'm a decent human being."

"That's just him", Cy said, still not looking away. "You don't need fancy outfits to convince _me_ of that."

Goob finished changing before he managed to word a reply, and even then, it couldn't have been more awkward. "Thanks, I guess."

"Sure thing." Cy looked him over again, reaching for him before Goob had any idea what was happening. His friend was fixing his collar, he realized eventually, just as Cy stepped back again with a "There you go." - and just as Cy opened his closet a little wider, revealing a mirror covering the door's entire inside.

Goob stared at it - at _himself_ \- for a minute or maybe more, unable to say anything. _You're right, Cy_ , he thought, as hard as he found it to believe. He _did_ look good. _Really_ good.

And he could only imagine what that meant regarding how _Cy_ was gonna look that Friday evening.

"Okay, _now_ we can put this stuff in a bag", his bandmate cut off his train of thought. He sounded amused, ecstatic even, and Goob wondered yet again how Cy really felt about him. Acting like this had to mean _something_ , right? But even that wasn't something he could wonder about for long, because as he took off the fancy clothing again, Cy said something else. "Looks aren't everything though, you know. We still gotta figure out what to do for the song."

"The song?", Goob repeated, too busy changing to look at his friend. "Wouldn't it be better to discuss that whole thing with the others around?"

"Doesn't hurt if I bring it up with you first. Since you're the one who's gonna sing it and stuff."

That made Goob freeze and stare at Cy after all. "What do you mean, I'm the one who's gonna sing?"

Cy shrugged, as if what he was saying was obvious. "We're gonna have to perform something slow if we don't wanna blow our cover, right? And that's not gonna work with the usual setup. I'd just be going crazy with the vocals, and no offense, but nobody's gonna buy you playing a song that's not in our usual genre. You're much better at the faster stuff."

"I guess."

"And besides, dude, your voice totally kills at the kinda song we're gonna need. Remember when you showed me some of your favorite stuff and sang along in the end? My dad's gonna be speechless if he hears you like that. In a good way."

"I guess", Goob said again. Yeah, of course he remembered the little jam session he and Cy'd had at his place a while back. Goob had played some of his favorite songs for him, songs that weren't just the DoD's kind of rock but also had their slower and more emotional parts. Even then, Cy had told him how great his voice was at that genre, but it wasn't like he had ever planned to do it in public - for one reason in particular. "So you want me to go up there and sing your dad a song about how miserable I feel every day?"

Cy snorted, grabbing a tote bag from somewhere inside his closet to pack Goob's new outfit for him. "Hope not, dude. I was mostly thinking along the lines of doing some sort of slow acoustic cover of one of the songs we already have. Something with lyrics that aren't all that edgy. You know, like _Cherry_."

"That works", Goob supposed. _Cherry_ was a song that kinda only existed because Skeeter had claimed that every band, including theirs, needed at least one love song in its discography. Thankfully, it hadn't turned out awfully sappy or anything, but it was still far from the lyrics Cy usually wrote. Sometimes, Goob liked pretending that his friend had written _Cherry_ for him - but he knew that was wishful thinking, because Cy himself had said it was about "whoever the people want it to be". At least it was probably their best bet for Friday… Cy's dad definitely wouldn't appreciate them singing about anarchy or anything like that. "So if I do the singing, and you do the guitar stuff, what about the others? Is Rud just gonna drum in the background?"

"Basically, yeah." Cy had barely finished saying that before another question crossed Goob's mind.

"And what about Skeeter? He's probably even worse at slow and calm acoustic guitar playing than I am."

That made Cy hesitate a moment, as if he hadn't actually found a solution for that yet. "We'll work something out", he said in the end, handing Goob the bag he'd finished packing. "Here, man. Try not to leave too many wrinkles til Friday."

"Yeah, I'll try", Goob said with a sigh. "I still can't believe we're doing this. It's insane."

"It is. But we're gonna make it work, you'll see." Briefly, for just a few seconds, Cy squeezed his hand and smiled at him in that peculiar way of his that always made Goob forget about his worries for a little while. "Now let's get back to school again, huh? Don't wanna be late if I can avoid it."

"Don't let Skeeter hear that", Goob said, grinning. Their bandmate had a habit of pointing out whenever Cy was late to a meeting. Thinking about Skeeter made Goob think about Rud as well, and about Cy and himself… and about how no matter how much they got on each other's nerves sometimes, they always had each other's backs in the end.

And just for a moment, Goob felt like maybe, just maybe, everything was gonna work out.


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, Skeeter already had an idea about what he was going to contribute to their performance. "I'm not just great at guitar, you know", he told them during their meetup the next day. "I've got some keyboard experience too, thanks to my dad. Sometimes he syncs it up with his software and then we put on a little show down in the basement."

Goob knew that Skeeter's dad was working for some software company that could make their program pick up on music and respond with all kinds of lighting effects. That didn't just mean that they made a ton of money from being almost the only people involved in that market at all, but also that Skeeter had a light problem on top of his volume problem. He was almost as much into bright, flashy colors as he was into screeching the end of way too many sentences. And his basement… that was one giant room made soundproof specifically for him to go all out with his music. It had a tv as well, and all of Skeeter's consoles, and as much as Goob enjoyed hanging there with the band, it also made him more than a little jealous every time.

But luckily, that wasn't a problem right now. "Well, we're not gonna bring that software along tomorrow", he told Skeeter in his "Just stop bragging with how great your life is compared to mine" voice. "Don't think anyone there would appreciate that."

"Duh", his bandmate replied, and even behind his shades Goob knew he was rolling his eyes. "I wasn't planning on bringing the keyboard either. But a piano shouldn't be too different, right?"

There actually was a piano among the instruments A Nigma High stored in the backstage part of the gym, so the Dudes spent the next hour or so practicing - not their typical rock, but _Cherry_ , in the acoustic version they were gonna perform the very next evening. Skeeter really wasn't half bad on his unusual instrument, as little as Goob was planning to admit it to him… but then, Skeeter also didn't comment on his vocals. Only Cy did, at the very end of their practice, when their other bandmates had already left.

"That wasn't so bad now, huh?"

"Yeah, suppose we made it passable after a dozen tries", Goob replied half-heartedly. All of this had only reminded him of the evening to come, and he couldn't say he was particularly looking forward to any of it.

Cy hesitated, then patted him on the back with a smile. "I meant your vocals, dude. They're _fantastic_. We'll hardly have to worry about anything tomorrow if we keep rocking like this. In the not-really-rock way, I mean."

That made Goob crack a smile after all; he couldn't help it. "Then let's just hope I'll keep my shit together."

"You will", Cy said immediately, and it didn't sound like an order. It sounded like a prophecy. _A prophecy…_ hadn't Cy said he was tight with the god in charge of all that? Goob didn't believe in anything of the sort, but he believed in Cy, and that was all that mattered.

"I will", he agreed, trying to sound like he really meant it. "Okay. Thanks, dude. See ya tomorrow."

Tomorrow - the day on which the future of the band depended on whether or not he would manage to be nice to the person he despised the most.

Totally no big deal.

* * *

The next morning and noon, Goob was hardly able to concentrate in any of his classes. How could he, when the hours to come were looming over every single one of his thoughts? That was why he spent the afternoon lying on his bed, blasting the most aggressive rock he could find through his headphones. Then it was evening, and he got all dressed up, and his dad drove him most of the way until Goob stopped him a few blocks away from the _Lotus_.

"This'll do", Goob told him, already feeling the lump in his throat he definitely needed to get rid of in the next few minutes. "Don't want Cy's dad to see me leaving such a shitty old car."

With anyone else, he'd have added a "no offense", but he knew his dad didn't mind. The two of them made stupid jokes about their situation all the time.

"Sure thing", his dad replied, bringing the car to a stop and watching him as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Just call me if you need a ride later. And have fun."

"Yeah, I totally will", Goob muttered, and for a moment, his and his dad's eyes met with the same weary smile. "Later, Dad."

He shut the door behind him, and headed off into the direction of his probable doom.

"Magnus!"

A sudden voice somewhere behind him made him jump, and when he turned around, he was greeted by Skeeter's obnoxious laugh.

"What the hell, dude?", Goob asked, forcing himself to calm down as fast as he could. "I don't need a heart attack before we've even reached the _Lotus_."

"Just wanted to check if you know your role", Skeeter said with a grin. He wasn't wearing his shades or his beanie, which was a rare enough sight, but he'd also tied his long blond hair back into a ponytail. Goob probably wouldn't have recognized him if he hadn't already braced himself for all the jarring things that were likely gonna happen this evening. "You really shouldn't jump every time someone uses your name, you know. Nobody's gonna be calling you Goob in the next several hours. And you should work on that glaring, too."

Goob groaned, willing his eyes to look less full of annoyance and anger. Which wasn't easy, but he knew Skeeter had a point. "Did it maybe occur to you that I jumped because you basically materialized right behind me?"

"Oh. Yeah. Guess you're right. Sorry?" Skeeter shrugged, starting to walk off again.

Goob followed him, wondering what exactly his bandmate was wearing under that coat of his. But he'd find out in just a few minutes, wouldn't he? Deciding that maybe talking would help ease his nervousness, he asked, "So how are you getting the piano there?"

"Don't need to. They already have one. My dad said there's bands playing at the _Lotus_ all the time, but of course they're too fancy to buy his software and all. Their loss, I'd say."

"Totally", Goob agreed weakly. They were only a block or so away from the restaurant now, and already he felt sick to the stomach. How was he supposed to last a whole evening like this?

Skeeter's next words didn't make it better. "By the way, dude, don't make it too obvious how you feel about Cy. Doubt his dad would appreciate that."

"As if I didn't know that", Goob sighed. Then, they turned around the very last corner… and he saw something that made him incredibly relieved and speechless at once.

There, standing right outside the _Lotus_ , were Cy and Rud, engaged in casual conversation as if nothing was wrong. On the bright side, Goob couldn't spot their dads; they were probably already inside.

On the weird side, Zed was there, too.

Or at least Goob supposed that this had to be Zed. Just like Skeeter and Goob himself, he and Rud weren't wearing their usual beanies, but in their case, that also meant brushing back their hair in a way that actually made their eyes visible for once. Their coats, if they'd brought any, were back inside, and so Goob got a pretty good look at his friends' matching white shirts and sleek black ties.

And the weirdest thing of all was that, with their hair done like this, they actually looked kind of good.

"Didn't know you had eyes, dude", Skeeter said to Zed as soon as he was close enough. Looked like he was really making an effort tonight - in any other time and place, he'd have shouted that from a hundred feet away.

"Right back at you, taller dude", Zed replied, eyeing him and Goob curiously. As did Rud.

And Cy? Goob hadn't been able to bring himself to look at him yet, because Skeeter was right, he couldn't risk anything this evening. But now he did… and immediately forgot how to breathe.

Technically speaking, Cy wasn't looking all that different from his normal aesthetic, but there were _some_ things he'd changed up. Beautiful things. Instead of a tank top, he was wearing a shirt that matched Goob's own, but in the slightest brown-tinted off-white hue, and instead of his regular loose vest, a tighter one, half-buttoned up, in almost the same dark brown shade as his hair. Unlike Skeeter, he'd left his hair open - Goob knew that trying to tame that mane was a fruitless effort -, and he wasn't wearing his top hat… but still. His eyes seemed to shine even more than they usually did, and Goob couldn't meet that gaze for longer than a second if he didn't want to risk passing out. Or something like that.

 _How am I supposed to ignore that all evening?_ , he wondered. And, after a way too long and awkward silence, he actually managed to say something. "Hey."

"Hey", Cy said right back to him, and for a moment, Goob couldn't help but think about whether his friend felt the same way about _his_ looks right now. If he did, he didn't let it show, at least. "We thought we'd wait for you guys out here. Have a last little casual talk before shit gets real and all."

"Thanks, man", Skeeter replied, actually sounding genuine. Was it good or bad that Goob wasn't the only one nervous after all? He really had no idea.

And he also noticed that Zed was still looking at him with that curious expression. "You okay, dude?"

Zed blinked at him - a pretty rare sight, to say the least. "Just trying to figure out who you are. Don't think I've seen you before."

"Seriously?" Goob stared right back, not really sure whether to be amused or offended. "It's me. Goob."

"Ohhh", Zed said. "Yeah. I knew that." His expression shifted into a grin, and Goob saw his braces shine in the lights outside the restaurant. "No, seriously. I'm not that slow. Usually." Tilting his head, he added, "You're not gonna introduce yourself that way though, right?"

Goob sighed. "No. It's Magnus tonight."

"Cedric." Zed gave him a sympathetic snort. "Although, you know, don't actually call me that. Can't guarantee I'll react. Maybe just leave all the name-calling to our dads?"

"I'm fine with that", Skeeter put in. " _Scott_ just really doesn't sound as rad as _Skeeter_."

"Whatever, dude", Goob replied, just as Cy cleared his throat. Of course, that immediately got him everyone's attention.

"Hate to be the bad guy here, but we should probably head inside. Don't really wanna leave my dad waiting too long."

As little as he wanted to, Goob had to agree. So he gave his friend a nervous but hopefully somewhat reassuring nod, took a deep breath, and followed him into the restaurant.

The second they reached the main hall, Goob had to stop himself from walking right back out again. Calling this place "fancy" was an understatement - there were chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, fountains, literal channels of water dividing the room into multiple areas, and of course, plenty of lotus blossoms everywhere to rub in the name of the place. He heard Skeeter behind him, whistling in admiration - there were plenty of shiny lights to satisfy _his_ interests -, but Goob himself was too nervous to say anything. And too busy trying not to _look_ nervous.

In fact, he was so busy attempting to stay composed that for a moment, he kind of forgot where Cy was leading them.... until a sudden movement ahead of them made him focus again.

A movement that, as it turned out, was two adult men rising from their seats.

 _Don't stare_ , Goob reminded himself, trying to take in these strangers as casually as possible. His eyes rested on the one with light brown hair first, a heavyset man with a slightly protruding lower jaw that made it all too obvious whose parent he was. He didn't look particularly strict, Goob thought in relief, but then again, that didn't have to mean much. Almost all of them were putting on an act tonight, after all.

But only almost. Ruben Xavier, Goob knew, didn't need to put on an act. He mentally braced himself another time, then shifted his gaze to Cy's dad… and realized he had to look several inches down at him. Fleetingly, Goob hoped that maybe this would end up making things a little more bearable - but that thought was gone the second he actually _looked_ at the man.

As he'd expected, Cy's dad was dressed all properly, wearing almost the same exact outfit and colors as his son except for an additional jacket on top of it all, the kind of clothing only stuck-up rich people ever owned. His hair was like Cy's as well, long and dark brown and curly, but unlike his son, he had somehow managed to tie it into a ponytail that didn't just dangle behind him like Skeeter's but fell all the way down onto one side of his chest. Just from the way he stood there, Goob could feel the imposing confidence he radiated - a confidence he had every reason to carry, Goob was all too well aware. This was a man who had virtually never lost in a court case, who had pretty much all the success and money one could possibly ask for. And here, tonight, unlike the rest of them… he didn't have anything to lose.

It was also, however, the exact kind of aura that immediately rubbed Goob the wrong way. Only jerks strode around like that, and Ruben Xavier was the biggest of them all. His entire demeanor was pretentious, and awful, and without even having looked at his face, Goob already wanted nothing more than to take it all away from him.

Then he suddenly found himself face to face with that man, because apparently, Skeeter had already started to introduce himself while he'd been busy taking it all in. And now Cy's dad was here, right in front of him, and Goob had to bring himself to meet his eyes after all because he knew anything else would've been considered impolite. But while Cy's eyes were all warm and comforting, even though these were the same exact color, his father's were anything but. Cold and judging and calculating, Goob knew immediately that Mr Xavier was analyzing him now, determining whether his son could be allowed in his presence. And as much as he'd wanted to yell at him before, or punch him, or whatever - this was a gaze that prevented him from doing any of that. A gaze that made it all too obvious that any kind of wrong move would have consequences.

Making it through the evening suddenly felt a lot less likely.

 _Don't stare_ , Goob reminded himself yet another time, then swallowed his panic in a way that hopefully wasn't too noticeable. He extended his hand, somehow managing to keep up the eye contact all the while. "Magnus Goober", he said as confidently as he could make himself sound. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

"The pleasure is all mine", Cy's dad replied as he shook his hand, in a voice that, just like his eyes, was all neutral and businesslike. No, that wasn't entirely true - for a moment, Goob thought he saw a flicker of surprise in his expression, but he'd caught himself again only milliseconds after, and he didn't mention anything of the sort. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Goob had absolutely no idea. 

Then, he had other things to worry about, because Rud and Zed's dad had taken his hand now, and unlike the first one, this handshake was all firm and almost hand-breaking.

"Calvin Conasty", the man introduced himself, and Goob only managed a nod before his hand was thankfully released again. With some sort of twisted pleasure, he watched as Skeeter got his hand squeezed as well, and then the men gestured for them to take a seat. They hadn't exactly decided an order beforehand, so in the end, Goob found himself next to Skeeter and Rud, and thankfully at one end of the table so he wouldn't have to get on anyone's nerves in case he really needed to make a run for the bathroom. Another good thing was that Cy was sitting directly across from him… and a not so good thing that Goob also had a really good view of his dad. He could already tell that if there was gonna be any drama, it would happen on their side of the table, not over where Rud and Zed and their father were sitting.

Goob took a quick glance around to get a grip of his surroundings. Relieved, he realized that the bathroom wasn't too far away - just over one of those fancy little channel bridges and past a couple more tables. But on the edge of his field of vision, he also spotted the small stage they were gonna perform on in a bit, currently occupied by another band playing something he could only describe as elevator music. Briefly, he imagined himself and the Dudes stepping up there and performing one of their usual songs, in their usual style, just to see the look on the faces of everyone in this room.

But of course, they couldn't actually do that.

Goob focused his attention back on their table, finally taking the time to look at Skeeter's outfit choice now that they'd both put their coats on the same rack as the others.

And he immediately had to suppress a groan.

Skeeter was wearing a plain white shirt… and on top of it, a jacket that was anything but. It wasn't a vibrant color or anything, thankfully; just black, with no additional patterns on it. Instead, however, there were rhinestones on the shoulders and collar, catching the light of the chandelier above them and hopefully not immediately blinding Cy's dad he was sitting across from.

That was the person Goob was watching now, praying to gods he didn't even believe in that this wasn't going to end the evening before it had even really begun. What was Skeeter thinking, showing up to this meeting like this? Couldn't he guess that this wasn't the time to show off his obnoxious interest in shiny things? That Cy's dad was never going to take him seriously in such a getup? The man was raising an eyebrow at Skeeter right now, in fact, looking him over in seconds that seemed to drag on forever.

"Are those real?", he asked him eventually, and Goob didn't doubt that a lawyer like him could easily wear a jacket like that with actual diamonds if he wanted to.

Skeeter remained completely unfazed, as if talking to someone like Ruben Xavier was no big deal whatsoever. "No", he admitted all openly, which made Goob groan internally even more. Couldn't he at least lie about his fanciness if he really had to show up like this? But then, Skeeter continued. "I have better things to do than display how wealthy I am in such a pretentious way. I'd rather spend my money on more practical things or stuff people actually benefit from. What's the point in having all that money if you don't invest it in anything worthwhile?"

To Goob's amazement, there suddenly was something like respect in Mr Xavier's eyes. He nodded, slowly, shooting his son a quick glance. "I agree. Good to see you have your priorities in order, Scott."

Goob felt himself release the breath he'd been holding, and he risked a surprised glance at Skeeter. Had he known Cy's dad was going to ask him something like this? Had he decided to wear this outfit specifically to impress the lawyer with words he would love to hear? Maybe Skeeter actually knew what he was doing, for once.

Or at least that was the case for that single moment, because Goob saw his bandmate's eyes light up the second Rud's father asked them what they would like to drink - or more specifically, the second he said, "You could grab a beer too, if you'd like. Or something like that. Your parents won't learn it from us that we're offering you alcohol on this special occasion."

In that moment, Goob became aware of two things. One, their friends' parents were testing them, because they most definitely wouldn't actually approve of such reckless behavior.

And two, Skeeter was gonna be that exact kind of reckless if nobody stopped him.

"I'll just have a glass of water, please", Goob said before his friend could get any ideas, as much as he had to force that _please_ out of his mouth. "I'd rather keep a clear head during the evening, especially since I wouldn't want us to mess up our performance later."

Skeeter seemed disappointed, but only momentarily. "Yeah, what he said", he added, just as Goob noticed the kind of proud look Cy was giving him right now. _See, you've got this_ , it seemed to say, and for a moment, Goob actually let himself believe that.

Then a waitress arrived and handed a menu to each of them, and that brief moment of reassurance was gone.

The first thing he noticed when he opened it up were the prices. Sure, he had expected this place to be ridiculously expensive, but seeing it all spelled out on paper immediately made him feel uneasy again. No, not just uneasy, but also… mad, in a way. The money they were gonna spend here tonight was probably as much as his family used up for groceries in a month. He hardly paid attention to the adults as they ordered everyone's drinks, too busy skimming through pages upon pages of food he'd never eaten in his life because he usually couldn't afford wasting his money in any kind of restaurant.

"Hey", Skeeter suddenly whispered in his direction, and Goob shot him a subtle questioning glance. Their friends' dads were still busy talking to the waitress, he noticed, so nobody was paying attention to them right now. " _Calamari_ means snails, right?"

"No, squid", Goob muttered back - Italian was close enough to Spanish for him to know this stuff -, and a second later he realized that was actually on the menu. "You're not gonna order that, are you?"

"Why not? Maybe I'll never get the chance again."

Goob only gave him a small kind of if-you-insist nod in response, eyes back on his own menu. He didn't think trying out fancy food like that was something the adults wouldn't approve of… but that might be the case if he ordered this kinda stuff and either ate it the wrong way or ended up hating the taste and left half of the plate untouched. He wasn't going to risk either of that; he needed to find something he knew he'd be able to handle.

In the end, Goob settled for some basic pasta - not that it was particularly basic by his standards given how they definitely weren't just gonna slap some ketchup on it here -, although he still pretended to be reading his menu all the way until the waitress showed up again with their drinks. He really didn't want to end up in more conversation with Mr Xavier than absolutely necessary.

Goob watched as the drinks were distributed - water for him and Skeeter, some obscure tropical juices for his friends, tea for the adults - and then, like everyone else, ordered what he was gonna eat. Once again, he had to keep himself from rolling his eyes when Skeeter really did ask for that squid meal, but Cy, sitting across from him, seemed more amused than anything. They exchanged a brief semi-exasperated glance, then it was Cy's turn to order. He picked some sort of salad with a name that sounded all Greek, and Goob couldn't help but crack a little smile. If Cy was enjoying the evening so far, maybe he could, too.

His hopeful mood lasted exactly until the waitress had left again.

"So", Mr Xavier said, taking a sip of his tea. He sounded casual, kind of, but also very much like the lawyer he was. "Magnus. Scott. Tell us a little about yourselves."

Of course, Goob had expected to hear that eventually, but it still sent such a surge of adrenaline through his body that he couldn't think of anything to say.

Maybe Skeeter could feel that, or maybe he had already prepared something in advance - in any case, he started talking while Goob was still busy trying to slow his heartbeat again. "My dad works at a software company", he said, and thankfully didn't make the mistake of mentioning the light shows in his basement. Instead, he went on by listing places and companies using his dad's software, and those were names even Goob recognized - no surprise Cy and Rud's dads seemed impressed as well. Then, Skeeter talked about his mom and Lisa, his by a few years older sister… and, to Goob's relief, spared everyone her honestly epic motorcycle and the garbage movie nights the two of them had every other week or so. He told them all about his favorite subjects in school and even brought up his hearing aid for a moment, and just when Goob was starting to wonder if he was maybe rambling on a bit too much, he ended his monologue with an "Oh, and I have a couple of pet fish. Not the most extravagant breeds, but they do help me focus when I do my homework."

 _When?_ , Goob wondered with a silent scoff. _More like if. When have you ever done any homework?_ But of course, this was exactly what their friends' parents wanted to hear, so he didn't point it out.

Neither of the adults had interrupted Skeeter during his talk, but now, Mr Xavier nodded at him. Had Skeeter passed his test again? It looked like it, at least. However, Goob couldn't exactly be happy about that… because now the man focused his gaze on him once more, and that alone made all of his earlier attempts to calm himself down useless.

"Do you own any pets, Magnus?", Mr Xavier asked.

Goob hesitated. _No, I don't_ , his brain urged him to say, but maybe - no, definitely - because of those oh so intense eyes watching him right now, he couldn't bring himself to lie. "Yes", he forced out of himself. "A bunch of rats."

"Rats?", Mr Conasty echoed, the same horrible second Cy's dad raised one of his eyebrows.

"Really."

"Yes", Goob repeated, then shut himself up because anything else he could say would make everything even worse. He was aware of Cy giving him a nervous look, but his friend didn't seem to know how to resolve this either.

For several long, agonizing seconds, nobody said anything.

And then Zed did.

"Rats are pretty great", he offered, smiling up at his dad. "Remember how I told you about the animal research facility Wayne's parents work at? He gets to help out with running experiments with the crows sometimes, but they have rats there, too. They're really smart little things."

"They are", Goob agreed, shooting a grateful glance at his friend who had only narrowly avoided saying _dudes_ in that last sentence there. How did he know Wayne from the Mathletes so well? That guy never talked to anyone he considered intellectually inferior, and the Skaters just _had_ to be at the very bottom of his tier list, right? Maybe Goob would ask Zed about it sometime, but not now. Now he had to be glad he'd been provided such an easy way out of this mess he'd dragged himself into. "I have to come up with new ways to keep them busy all the time because they're just that good at solving puzzles. Zed...ric helps me with that sometimes, actually."

That last part wasn't exactly true, but also not entirely false. No, Zed never came over to hang with his rats or anything, but at Goob's last birthday party - and his first, really, but that was another story -, he and the other Skaters had gotten him some little wooden toys for his rats, stuff that they'd actually put together themselves with a surprising amount of dedication and effort. That was enough to count for this half-truth Goob was presenting right now, and he could see that it satisfied his friends' parents at least somewhat. 

"I see", Mr Xavier said in his horribly businesslike tone. "I suppose that if one must have a pet, it had better be one with more benefits to it than effort that should have rather been invested elsewhere." He paused, took a moment to drink more of his tea, then set the cup down again. "Do your parents also work at the facility Cedric mentioned, then?"

"No", Goob replied before really thinking about it. He cursed himself immediately afterwards - Cy's dad had given him the perfect way to dodge another awkward confession, and he'd completely blown it within just a few seconds. What was he supposed to do now? He knew he was expected to elaborate, but he couldn't just drop that his dad was a janitor of all things. That was guaranteed to get him kicked out of Cy's allowed contacts immediately.

But at the same time, lying about his parents kind of felt like betrayal. Sure, they didn't have as much money or as impressive jobs as the parents of most other people Goob knew, but they had made peace with it years ago. They were doing the best they could, and there was no shame to any of it. And if the high and mighty Ruben Xavier had an issue with that, then that was just too bad for him, wasn't it? _He_ was the one supposed to get his priorities straight here, not the people who, despite their shitty jobs, still worked as hard as they could to give their kid a decent life. That was more than he could say about Cy's dad, seriously.

Goob opened his mouth again, ready to tell Mr Xavier exactly that, even if he'd have to lay back on his usual swear words a little. But before he could do that, it was the lawyer himself who spoke up once more, his eyes fixed on Goob in a way that was almost curious. As if he was dying to see how he would react.

"Not much of a surprise", Mr Xavier said, and even though he didn't actually do it, Goob could virtually hear the shrug in his voice. "Do you live with both of your parents?"

Goob couldn't help but shiver. Something about the way the man had worded this question, something about how weirdly specific it was… it didn't feel right. It made him feel nervous, as if whatever he could say in return was wrong, not that staying silent would be any better. So when he'd finally gathered himself enough to reply, it came out just as off as Cy's dad had perhaps even intended it to. "I do, sir."

Mr Xavier nodded, one corner of his mouth creeping up into the smallest of smiles. Like he was amusing himself with a thought he'd just had. "Who'd have guessed Darren would ever find someone willing to spend more than a few weeks with him?"

Any kinds of calming thoughts Goob had still allowed himself to have disappeared from his mind in an instant. He froze, and stared, and couldn't bring himself to stop, no matter how much he knew he should. Darren was his father's name, Darren Goober.

Suddenly he knew exactly why Cy's dad had looked so surprised when he had introduced himself.

"What?", Goob managed, his thoughts too jumbled for anything else. "You know my dad?"

"Oh, yes. I do." Mr Xavier's gaze met his once more, his eyes yet again full of that disturbing curiosity. "And I can't say I like him very much."


	4. Chapter 4

_How?_ , was the question echoing through Goob's mind, over and over and over. _How do you know my dad? How didn't he tell me if he knew something like this was gonna happen tonight?_

_How am I supposed to get out of this?_

He could guess the answer to the second question: If his dad was aware Mr Xavier couldn't stand him, of course he wouldn't have told Goob about it. That'd only have made his anxiety about this evening worse than it had already been, and he might have refused to show up to the restaurant altogether. His dad had probably counted on the topic not coming up.

It was only a mild relief that Cy looked just as overwhelmed as he did; that meant his friend hadn't had any idea about this either. But what good was that to them now? If Mr Xavier knew all about his dad, if he'd just been playing with Goob this whole time - was there even anything left for them to do? Was there still a way to convince him Goob wasn't a bad influence for Cy, even if he couldn't stand his dad?

Goob didn't have a clue, and all he could do now was clench his fists and wish for his hoodie pockets to stuff them into. He felt like screaming, like crying, because it was over now, wasn't it? It had been over the second he'd told Mr Xavier his name. And yet he willed himself to keep those emotions inside, if only to preserve the last piece of credibility he still had. "How?", he forced out of himself, because he wasn't sure he could keep it together for more.

"Not for long, thankfully", Cy's father continued, still using his businesslike tone as if Goob's likely very much visible distress didn't affect him at all. "But we were classmates, Darren and I, all those years ago in high school."

"I remember him", Mr Conasty put in, shooting Goob a glance that was almost sympathetic but didn't ease his discomfort in the slightest. "And for your sake, boy, I hope he has changed since then."

"Why?" That was Skeeter speaking up now, and Goob was both worried and proud to hear a hint of defiance in his voice. After all, everyone in the band knew his dad and how great of a guy he was.

But had he always been? Suddenly Goob wasn't so sure. Was there something his dad had never told him about… or was Mr Xavier just making a fuss about something anyone with even a little amount of decency would consider perfectly fine?

He felt himself holding his breath as he waited for the answer to Skeeter's question, his dread close to overwhelming him when he realized it was Cy's dad who was gonna speak next. Whatever Mr Conasty could've said, hearing it from the lawyer would make it a dozen times worse.

"Darren was never part of a group", Mr Xavier explained, and the more he talked, the more underlying contempt crept into his voice. "Could he have found one that matched his interests? Most likely. But he stayed by himself, at all times, because anything else wouldn't have suited his image anymore. And he never let anyone forget about that one, you can believe me on that." He paused, briefly, looking at Goob again. "Can you perhaps already guess what I am referring to?"

A horrible suspicion crossed Goob's mind. No, his dad had never mentioned anything outstanding he'd done in high school, for better or worse. But there was one thing that set him apart from other people, even back when he'd gone to school: his depression. And there wasn't anything else the others' parents could possibly mean.

Did Goob really want to know what they had to say about this? No, but he didn't have much of a choice. Cy's dad was probably gonna keep talking no matter what he replied, so he might as well get it over with. "I know he's had some… issues in the past", he admitted eventually, because clearly Mr Xavier wouldn't like it if he told him the whole depression deal was very much still a thing in present day.

Or, worse, that he was just like his dad in that regard.

"Quite the contrary, Magnus", Mr Xavier said, then cleared his throat after another sip of his tea. "Your father never had any real issues to speak of. Although it doesn't surprise me that he would even lie to his own son about this."

For a moment, Goob couldn't say anything. Couldn't even _think_ anything until he'd let the man's words sink in. And then, when he had realized Cy's dad was being entirely serious, he had to try his absolute hardest not to throw himself at him either verbally or physically. _Never had any real issues?_ , he silently screamed at the lawyer. _Are you fucking kidding me? You get your sorry ass over to our place and watch as he passes out on the couch because he's drowning out his shitty thoughts with stupid late night television, and_ then _we're gonna see how you feel about these oh so fake issues, you goddamn asshole._

Only when Skeeter put a hand on his thigh and he couldn't even tense up any more did Goob realize how on edge he was not just in his mind, but physically as well. He risked a glance at his friend, who was giving him a kind of "I know this is awful, but please, dude, don't do anything stupid" look, and forced himself to take a few calming breaths. That was useless, probably, since Mr Xavier could obviously tell that his words had caused _some_ sort of reaction, but it was still better than him actually losing his shit and saying things he really shouldn't be saying. Anything he could reply right now was gonna be just like that, he knew, so he grabbed his glass of water to let that help him calm down some more.

That was the moment Mr Xavier opened his mouth again, and Goob just _knew_ he was gonna say something that'd make him spit out his drink.

Which was maybe exactly why Cy reacted before he could. "Let it go, Dad", he said quietly, with a strange tenseness leaking into his usual chill.

It had startled the lawyer as well, Goob could see that in his expression even as he quickly took the chance to drink his water. But it only lasted a split second before Mr Xavier had resumed his neutral face again, glancing over to his son. "You stay out of this, Cyrus. This has nothing to do with you." He focused on Goob once more, and the boy swallowed his water hard. "Nor with you, for that matter. After all, I can hardly blame you for things your father did decades ago. However, I believe you can agree that it is in your best interest to know about this so that you may not repeat the same disgraceful behavior in the future. Not that I think you would, of course - surely my son knows better than to befriend someone who uses a made-up illness to gain pity and admiration." The man paused, waiting for Goob's response, and when he didn't receive one, he continued. "Which, that being said, is precisely what Darren did. He never openly announced how miserable he was, no, but he might as well have. None of the many affairs he had ever lasted more than a few weeks… his oh so broken persona got quite tiresome after a while, I would imagine."

_Broken persona my ass_ , Goob thought, one more shitty comment away from actually doing something for real. _You're gonna be broken when I'm done with you, jerk._ But for now, he still managed to hold it all in, however hard it was. Should he say something in response? Probably. Something that wasn't as offensive as he was dying to make it, something like -

"That's enough, Dad." Cy's voice cut off his train of thought, and Goob looked at him in surprise. Or maybe even a bit of shock. His friend had sounded tense before, the first time, but also still like his usual self. Now, though, his typical serenity was entirely gone, in a way Goob hardly ever got to hear. The last time had been when Cy had gotten himself addicted to Green Apple Splat and temporarily quit the band in uncalled for anger.

Sounding like this meant that he wasn't messing around.

Mr Xavier, sure enough, turned to his son, not just with a brief glance but with his entire head. The movement made his ponytail fall behind his body, but he didn't bother adjusting it again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me", Cy replied, meeting the lawyer's eyes in a way Goob would never have found the courage to. "I want you to leave Magnus alone."

Goob stared at Cy now, faintly aware of how the others were, too. Nobody dared make a sound, it was as if Cy and his father were the only two people at the table. The only two people in the entire hall.

Eventually, Mr Xavier replied, unable - or not bothering - to hide a hint of irritation in his voice. "And _I_ told _you_ to stay out of this conversation, Cyrus."

"You did", Cy agreed flatly, not moving an inch. "But with all due respect, father, Magnus is _my_ friend, and as such, I believe I can judge better than you if he really needs an in-depth briefing on all the oh so imprudent things his father did decades ago. And I say, and you can trust me on this: He does not, and _will not ever_ , bring himself down to the level of indecency you just described, no matter whatever his father might have done. This evening is about _him_ , not about his family, so leave. Magnus. Alone."

Goob was hardly able to focus on Cy's words, as much as he could guess the gist of them. All he could do was stare at his friend, at his face… at his eyes he only saw from the side now but in which he could still recognize a chilling cold unlike anything he'd known Cy to be capable of. He could hear it in his voice as well, in how deep and serious it had gotten. At that very moment, as well-meaning as his words were, Cy was such a spitting image of his father that Goob couldn't be happy for his friend's support. It was honestly kind of terrifying to see him this way, so much like the man Goob had always refused to believe could possibly be his father.

But it was impossible to deny that now.

"I need to use the bathroom", Goob choked, and was already on his way before anyone could have thought about stopping him.

* * *

At the fastest still acceptable speed, Goob headed over that stupid little channel bridge, past those other tables, and into the bathroom whose door he only narrowly managed to stop himself from slamming shut. He took a moment to make sure nobody else was there with him, then went to a sink and turned the faucet all the way over to the coldest setting. Faintly aware of his shaking breath - no, his shaking body, _fuck_ \- he let the water run over his hands before shoving those into his face. _Get a grip, idiot_ , he scolded himself, listening to the sound of the rushing water because maybe, just maybe, at least that would help him calm down.

But how could he even think about calming down? He, and Cy, and the entire existence of the DoD - they were done for, _done for_ , just because Cy's absolute asshole of a father hated Goob's for a reason that wasn't even legit. Because he thought he was _faking_ his illness, as if he didn't fucking have anything better to do than that. As if it wasn't a miracle he was even still alive at this point.

But that wasn't the worst part of all this. It wasn't the insults against his dad making him feel way too many conflicting emotions right now, or even the fact that there wasn't a chance they'd still get to be a band after this evening. That was awful, and life-shattering, and Goob was definitely gonna have a breakdown of its own over _that_ whole matter once it had really sunk in. But right now, right here in this fancy as hell bathroom, the thing that was making him a shaking and crying mess was something different. It was the image of Cy that wouldn't leave his mind, the way he had looked and sounded just moments ago. Just like his father… just like the man who on this entire evening had done absolutely nothing to convince Goob that he wasn't one of the most awful people in existence.

_But you're nothing like him, Cy_ , he tried to reason with himself as his fingers tightened around the edge of the sink. Briefly, he looked at his reflection, and when he couldn't bear it anymore, he just stared at the water instead, at the way it disappeared into the drain. _So you look like him when you're angry, okay. And sound like him, too. But that doesn't mean you're the same kind of asshole he is. You wouldn't have tolerated my presence this long if you actually hated me guts. You wouldn't have done all these things for me just because you're pitying me and my shitty situation, right, Cy?_

" _Right?_ "

Goob didn't realize he'd said that aloud until he suddenly heard his voice, all broken and ugly and desperate. His grip around the sink tightened to the point it actually hurt, but he couldn't bring himself to let go. It was better than everything else he could be doing with his hands right now.

Faintly, through the fog of his racing thoughts and the silent echo of his voice, Goob heard someone open the door. He didn't dare look at whoever it was, not that they couldn't see his miserable state from this angle perfectly fine already. They were probably just gonna walk right back out again, or go on about their business as if he wasn't even there.

They didn't.

"Hey", they said, and as quiet as it was over the sound of the still rushing water and his own shitty sobs, Goob could still pinpoint exactly who the voice belonged to.

Cyrus. Of all people.

Goob closed his eyes, willing for him to go away, because Cy was the last person he wanted to talk to right now. But of course, even if his feelings for him were all over the place at the moment, he still knew there was no way Cy would just leave again. Not when he was looking like this.

He heard his friend's footsteps on the tiles of the bathroom floor, soft but still getting closer. Then, the water stopped rushing into the sink, and when suddenly something was touching one of his hands, Goob opened his eyes again. Sure enough, Cy had turned off the faucet, and then he'd placed one of his hands on his. Goob didn't want to look at him in the mirror, or turn his head to do it directly, but he knew he wasn't expected to.

"It's okay, dude. It's okay." Cy's voice was quiet, but calm again; so much like his usual tone that it only confused Goob even more. Had he just imagined his friend's behavior earlier? No, of course not. Of course he hadn't.

But Cy's voice right now, the voice he had grown to love over so many months, was making him forget about those awful recent memories. Right here, right now, all he wanted to do was focus on that sound and nothing else, because there was nothing in the world that could calm his inner turmoils the same way as this. And he needed to be calm now, more than anything, if he wanted to make it out of this evening alive.

Cy kept on talking, reassuring words that meant nothing and everything all the same. And Goob's breathing slowed, his grasp of the sink turned less forcefully tight, and eventually, after who knew how long, he managed a nod. He felt like he had himself under control again, at least for now.

"Why are you here?", he asked in a weak whisper. "Isn't your dad gonna -"

"My dad can go fuck himself", Cy cut him off, his voice as quiet as Goob's own, and Goob couldn't help but spin around to stare at him. His friend looked exhausted, he realized, and still a little mad… but nowhere near as unsettling as at the table earlier. "Don't worry about me, dude. He basically sent me off to get some fresh air and I took the back door to follow you here. No big deal." Their eyes met, briefly, but Cy didn't shoot him one of those strangely reassuring weary smiles he often put on in moments like this. He still sounded painfully bitter himself. "I'm so sorry he said all that stuff, man. If I'd known about any of this, I'd have -"

"It's fine, Cy." Goob hated interrupting his friend, but the last thing he needed was Cy of all people getting frustrated again. He couldn't bear seeing him go all Ruben Xavier another time. And so, when Cy shut himself up with visible reluctance, Goob sighed and said, "I don't care if he insults my dad. Or me. I should've expected something like that to happen anyway. It's just that…" He hesitated, reconsidered, couldn't bring himself to admit it.

But as it turned out, that wasn't necessary.

"...I scared you back there, didn't I?", Cy muttered, more to himself than anything. Goob didn't reply, but that was probably enough of an answer for his friend. Cy grimaced, his gaze turning more apologetic than angry. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to. It's… it's scaring me too, honestly. When I get like that. I sound so much like…"

"Like your dad", Goob put in, and his bandmate winced.

"Like someone I don't wanna be." Gently, Cy pushed past him, turning up the faucet again. He threw some water into his face, giving an exaggerated shudder at the sudden cold, and when he was done, he stood up straight once more, looking at Goob with what could only be described as guilt. "You don't think I'm in any way like him though, do you? Because I'm not. I'd never say anything half as shitty as he did."

"I know", Goob assured him, but he had to repeat it to really convince himself. "I know, Cy. But if you _feel_ like he does, about my issues and all -"

"No", his friend replied with so much sudden determination that it was honestly kind of flattering. "No, dude, I don't feel like he does. I know you aren't faking, and I know how awful things can get for you and your dad. And I don't mind, okay? None of that is making me like you any less. No matter how messed up your thoughts can turn, I'm still gonna have your back. Even if that means speaking up against my dad where everyone can hear." At last, Cy cracked the weary smile Goob had been hoping to see on him. "We cool?"

Goob, too, allowed himself to take a deep breath. How could he ever have doubted Cy's loyalty to him? His jerk of a father changed nothing between them, nothing. They wouldn't let him. "Yeah. We're cool. Thanks, man."

"Always", Cy told him, his smile becoming more genuine. "Now, I hate to say it, but you should probably head back to the others. _Way_ too long of a bathroom break already. But don't worry, I'm pretty sure my dad knows better than to say stuff like earlier again."

"Hopefully", Goob muttered. "Although I don't really know what's the point anymore. He probably hates me guts by now."

Cy shook his head, his hair dangling around him. "I wouldn't say that. Trust me, he'd have kicked you guys out already if he wanted this to be over. If he's still letting you eat stuff he's paying for, that means we still have a chance. We just gotta impress him with the music later."

"Right", Goob said with exhausted sarcasm. " _Just_ that. No big deal."

"We can do it, dude", Cy insisted, looking and sounding so convincing that it was kind of impossible not to believe him. " _You_ can do it. I know you can."

"Then you know more than I do." But what was the point in arguing about this? It didn't matter if Goob thought he could do it, he _had_ to. He had to, or he'd lose Cy and the band forever. "Alright. I'll figure this out. Suppose you're gonna head back going the long way round?"

Impressively, Cy managed a snort. "Guess so. Wouldn't want people to get any ideas." He put a hand on Goob's shoulder, smiling up at him. "See you back at the table."

"Yeah." Goob smiled back, because somehow, Cy could make his body do things like that even when he was still feeling miserable inside. "See you, dude."

He took one last glance at his reflection, to make sure he didn't look too much like a mess, then pulled away from Cy and headed back outside. Back into the main hall, and back to their table, where Ruben Xavier of all people was awaiting his return.

And where Cy wasn't gonna join them again for at least another minute.


	5. Chapter 5

The first thing Goob noticed when he returned was that their meals had arrived by now. The others had already begun eating theirs in half-awkward silence, while his and Cy's plates had remained obviously untouched; a strange reminder of the crap that had gone down only minutes before. But on the bright side - if there was such a thing under these circumstances -, the food also made for a good opportunity for him to casually join the others again.

With a last deep breath and a square of his shoulders, Goob walked back over to them, sitting down as if he hadn't just had a major breakdown back in the bathroom. "Sorry I took so long", he said with forced casualness. "How's the calamari, Scott?"

Skeeter stopped chewing whatever part of that thing he was eating, swallowed it down, and looked at him with an expression that almost fully hid his concern. Should Goob be flattered that even Skeeter hadn't been too happy about the conversation earlier? He _was_ flattered, in any case. He really was.

"Great, thanks", Skeeter said, grinning almost genuinely. "Wanna try some, Magnus?"

He'd put a certain kind of emphasis on that last word that, at least to Goob, made it obvious how ridiculous he still found the whole situation. But it was subtle enough for the adults not to notice, Goob hoped, and it was honestly making him feel a little bit better. He couldn't help but be grateful for Skeeter, at least this one time.

But of course, that didn't mean he had to accept his offer. "I'll pass", he replied, and Skeeter mildly shrugged in return.

"Suit yourself. You're right, your pasta doesn't look too bad either."

For the first time, Goob actually looked at his meal, and he realized his bandmate was right. It wasn't just the usual pasta from the store that he always had to dump ketchup on, but proper spaghetti arranged in a way that really looked kind of artsy. The sauce was a mix of eggs, cheese, and pork - _Carbonara_ , the menu had said, and Goob was glad that his guess about what that meant hadn't been too far off. "Yeah", he agreed, then forced himself to look at Mr Xavier because he knew he was expected to ask. "Where's Cyrus?"

The lawyer didn't look up from his Caesar salad… because, Goob realized, he'd been watching him all along. He didn't look mad, just as neutral as most of the time this evening, but that didn't really mean anything, of course. "I sent him outside", Mr Xavier said coolly, "due to his inappropriate behavior just before you left."

_I'll show you inappropriate_ , Goob thought, but kept all of that already resurfacing rage inside. He'd barely gotten away that first time, after all. But then, after a pause, Cy's dad opened his mouth again, and he braced himself for whatever bullshit the man still had to say.

"However, it has come to my realization that some of my words may not have been appropriate in such a public environment either. Sensitive topics such as family matters should probably rather be discussed in private. I certainly did not mean to disrespect you, Magnus. My apologies."

For a moment, all Goob could do was stare. Was he hearing that right? The high and mighty Ruben Xavier was apologizing - to him, of all people? To _anyone_ , honestly?

"It's alright", he managed after an awkward moment of silence. "I mean, I'm glad you told me about it. About my dad and all."

Did Mr Xavier believe him? Probably not. But he didn't get to say anything in return, because now Cy was coming back from his little walk as well. He sat down again, his expression hard to read, and his father gave him a quick glance.

"Feeling better, son?", he asked, and to Goob's surprise, he actually sounded just a tiny bit concerned.

"Yes, father. Thank you." Cy's words came off as generic as they were, and with a corner of his mouth twitching in mild irritation, Mr Xavier went back to his salad. As did Cy with his Greek one, but just for a moment. "They actually changed the olives!", he suddenly exclaimed in a much more cheerful tone. "Guess they really did listen to you complaining for me last time. Thanks, Dad."

Now Mr Xavier looked a little relieved, and Goob wondered if Cy had said that just for this specific reason. But no, he knew what his bandmate sounded like when he was excited, and this was exactly it.

"Was something wrong with the olives when you were last here?", Mr Conasty asked, and with him, Goob really had no idea if he was just making conversation.

Cy, in any case, didn't mind. "They used Kalamon olives instead of Kalamata olives last time, even though the menu clearly said the latter."

"And you could taste that?", Skeeter put in, for which he received an indignant look by none other than Rud.

"Of course."

Now Skeeter turned to Goob, looking a little helpless, and Goob gave him a similar face in return. That made Skeeter snort in silence, as if saying "Rich people, am I right?", and in that moment, it didn't matter that the two of them hardly got along. Right now, they could relate to each other all too well.

Goob took this moment of relative harmony to actually start eating his pasta, carefully twirling it around his fork before he really picked it up. Anything else probably would've left more of a mess than his friends' parents would like, and if he could impress them just by showing off table manners, that was good enough for him. He took his first mouthful of pasta… and immediately froze before he could even consider chewing. This stuff tasted good, _really_ good, so good he couldn't even think of a better adjective to describe it. A million times better than the food he could make, for sure.

"Not bad, huh?", Cy asked him, with the kind of genuine smile that made Goob feel all the wrong things for the occasion. Luckily, he still had pasta in his mouth, so he didn't have to give his friend an awkward answer and could just settle with a nod.

After that, they hardly spoke until they'd all finished their meals, and Goob didn't know whether that made it better or worse. On one hand, no conversation was better than any kind of conversation with Mr Xavier, but on the other, the relative silence gave him more than enough time to think about their upcoming gig. As calm as he usually was before concerts, this was something different, and not just because the entire future of the band depended on if they could impress Cy and Rud's parents.

It was also different because this was as far removed from a rock concert as you could possibly get.

On the bright side, Cy had told him in advance, they didn't have to openly announce their gig on stage or anything. They could just quietly go up there, quietly play their little song, and quietly disappear to their table again. And then walk out of this building and forget that any of this had ever happened.

Provided, of course, that they managed to make it out as a band.

* * *

"I hope everything was to your satisfaction", Mr Xavier said once all of them had set their silverware down.

"It was", Skeeter replied. He really had eaten everything on his plate, and Goob was extremely glad the squid wasn't doing weird things to his stomach or something. "Thank you again for inviting us."

Goob only nodded along. _His_ stomach was having kind of a crisis right now, but not because of the pasta. It was because of what he knew was coming next.

"Very well." Mr Xavier glanced at his watch - real silver, no doubt -, then turned to look at his son. "And right on time, too. If all of you are ready, you can go prepare for your performance now."

Cy's gaze met that of each of his bandmates, one eyebrow slightly raised. Silently asking them if they were up for all this.

"Ready when you are", Goob said with as much confidence as he could muster, knowing fully well that he wasn't ever going to be ready on his own. The others beside him nodded, and on Cy's own reaffirming nod, the five of them rose from their seats in almost unison.

_Five?_ , Goob wondered, then realized Zed had stood up along with them. But he couldn't tell him off, not here, with the adults listening, so he waited with that until they'd walked far enough away. "What are you doing, dude?", he half-whispered with obvious confusion and a bit of panic.

It was Rud who replied. "He's got an idea", he said. "Trust him."

"I'm gonna make up for dragging you all into this", Zed added, still somehow managing to sound positive. "You'll see."

"Should've told me in advance", Goob muttered, but he didn't feel like arguing. He had a lot of other things to worry about.

The five of them reached the smallish stage on the side of the hall, all their instruments already in place. The other band had stopped playing a while ago, so someone must've set all of this up since then.

"I let my dad tell them in advance what we were gonna need", Cy explained, then headed right for the stool with the acoustic guitar resting beside it. He made sure their mics weren't on yet and played a few chords to familiarize himself with the instrument, and Goob saw Rud do the same with the drums in the back. Skeeter, meanwhile, took a seat at the way too fancy piano, and soon enough, it was only Goob and Zed still standing there. Zed smiled a dorky smile at him that was probably meant to be reassuring, but Goob still felt himself shaking ever so slightly. All he could do right now was step up to his mic, the one he was soon supposed to be singing into. And he'd never done the lead vocals on stage before, ever.

"You've got this, dude", Cy said from where he was sitting, and although it wasn't by much, his presence helped ease Goob's nervousness at least a little bit. "Just try forgetting about everything around us. Just sing for yourself. For us. For me, if you're still doing all this just to help me out with my dad."

Goob's heart started racing for another reason on top of his panic, even more so when Cy shot him the most reassuring smile Goob had ever seen on him. In that moment - well, in a lot of moments, but right now especially -, Cy was more than just his friend, and Goob knew that his words were exactly how he had to go about this. He _was_ gonna sing _Cherry_ for Cy.

The sudden determination replaced his panic, and he was fully aware he'd have to ride this high while he still could. He took a quick glance around himself, making sure all of his bandmates were ready, and wondered yet again what Zed was gonna do. But his friend was still keeping up his confident expression, and so Goob let it be contagious and reached for his mic. "Alright, guys", he said to the others before turning it on. "Let's do this."

It only took a few seconds for the others to turn on their mics as well, and then, soon after, for Cy and Skeeter's tunes to fill the hall. They were gonna do a bit of an intro, Goob knew, before Rud and he himself would join in - so as he waited for his entry, easing himself and his body into the music, he took a moment to glance around. Sure enough, they were attracting attention from several tables already, especially so because, he imagined, having some high school kids performing here was a bit of an unusual sight. But he didn't really care about those tables, about those people he didn't know, and so his eyes shifted to where his friends' parents were sitting. They weren't all that uncomfortably close to the stage, thankfully, but even from this distance, Goob could feel Mr Xavier's watchful and analyzing eyes on his band. On Cy especially, for now, but Goob could guess that he was gonna be the man's focal point the second he started singing.

_Don't think about him_ , he reminded himself, taking one more deep breath as he heard his entry approaching. _Think about Cy._

He shot another glance to his bandmate, who had his eyes almost closed and seemed so in tune with the music that it reminded Goob of why he was here. Of what exactly he was fighting to keep. Then Cy opened his eyes again, just for a little moment, with an ever so subtle nod in Goob's direction. And Goob started singing.

_The sun's up high in perfect weather_  
_And you think you have it all_  
_Then you blink and it's all over_  
_'Cause after summer comes the fall_

Normally, Cy would've already screamed those lyrics in his beautiful soulful way, but that wasn't what they were here for tonight. Tonight, it was Goob's turn to sing, and he couldn't do it Cy's way. He had to do it _his_ way, all slow and still emotional. Which wasn't that hard after he'd eased himself into it with those first few lines, because hell, even if Cy hadn't written this song for him specifically, it still hit him in all the right places.

_And as the days grow dark and colder_  
_You find yourself becoming frail_  
_Your body numb, your mind a shadow_  
_But in the end, you will prevail_

_Kind of a message for all of the bullshit tonight, too_ , Goob thought as he sang, the lyrics coming so naturally to him that he might as well have written the whole thing himself. He had always liked _Cherry_ , although the band wasn't playing it much, but somehow, in this quiet and slow acoustic version, he actually appreciated it even more. Maybe because it was easier to get the point across like this, in the way he could put so much passion into his words that he'd never be able to in their usual genre.

_'Cause like a cherry in the winter_  
_Oh, you're broken, lost, and beat_  
_But like a cherry in the springtime_  
_Light returns, your sweetest treat_  
_And at last there comes the summer_  
_And the fruits are yours to eat_  
_Yeah, the fruits of life are yours to eat_

As Goob sang these lines that gave the song its name, he couldn't help but let his gaze wander again. It shifted over to his bandmates, of course, and Goob had to smile at the sight of Skeeter playing his piano, because as relatively slow as the song was, his friend still fully embraced his part in it, nodding along to the music and clearly enjoying himself. Cy was calmer in that regard, but he, too, seemed to be having a great time as he mouthed the lyrics with his half-closed eyes… and honestly, Goob wasn't actually dreading it all that much now that they were a few verses into the song. Then, more out of coincidence than anything, his eyes went back to their table again, and as expected, Cy's dad was watching him now. He still had his usual stone-faced expression on, but there was something else, too. That very expression seemed to be wavering, even from this distance, almost as if… as if they were genuinely moving him with this.

_Yeah, right_ , Goob thought to himself, because he knew how ridiculous that was. And yet, as he transitioned into the next part of the song, he kept his eyes on Mr Xavier. This was his favorite part of the track, and if there really was something going on with Cy's father, this was the moment he'd know.

_You just gotta hold on, hold on_  
_Hold on to see the light_  
_Hold on, hold on_  
_Hold on and you'll win the fight_

Okay, yeah, there was definitely something off about Mr Xavier's expression. The man had turned his chair around so he could watch them properly, and Goob could see one of his hands virtually clutching its frame, a behavior he knew all too well from himself. Was that a good thing?

_Of course it is,_ he thought, as startling as he found it to see. "Evoking emotions is all you ever wanna do with a song" was how Cy always put it, after all. This, too, was a verse absolutely meant to be sung by his friend with all his burning passion, but there was no denying that it also sounded incredible this way. Goob could still put all his emotions into these lines, still show how committed he was to everything this song meant to him. And so he did.

_Hold on, hold on_  
_Oh, let me be your light_  
_Hold on, hold on_  
_And together we'll win the fight_

He let his words fade out into his bandmates' solo part, the big intermission before his final lines. That was when a sound he hadn't heard before joined them, a high-pitched tune belonging to none of his friends' instruments. No, that wasn't right, he noticed a second later, because Zed had stepped closer to his microphone, in his hands an instrument of his own… a harmonica he was surprisingly good at playing. Impressive at, really. Startled, Goob took a step back from his mic to let Zed take over, because he knew this instrumental part of the song was still gonna last a while.

With his friend's honestly kind of beautifully haunting tune in the background, Goob looked at Mr Xavier again, and he saw that the man was still trying to keep himself together with visible difficulty. It was jarring to watch, honestly, but Goob didn't think any of his friends had noticed yet. Cy, sure enough, was still lost in whatever mindscape of his, and so Goob was the only one watching his father right now.

Then, for just a brief moment, his and Mr Xavier's eyes met, and the weirdest thing of all happened. Ruben Xavier, of all people, turned his gaze away first.

Goob was so startled that he almost missed his final entry, but he gathered himself again just in time. Zed lowered his harmonica, stepping back from the microphone with a smile, and Goob ended their performance with the last remaining lines. Even in Cy's version, these were a somewhat slow outro, so he was glad they could at least preserve this part of the original song.

_Though good times won't last forever_  
_'Cause the seasons come and go_  
_They'll be there on the horizon_  
_In the thaw after the snow_

Rud stopped his playing, as did Skeeter, and in the end, only Cy was left, strumming his last few chords before letting them fade into silence. Of course, there wasn't a wild crowd cheering for them, or a standing ovation, but Cy's promise of a silent exit wasn't entirely true either. Some people were clapping for them, Goob noticed, and then - perhaps out of sheer politeness -, so did just about everyone else in the hall. A very different experience from the reactions of their usual fans, definitely, but it felt kind of great all the same. Maybe they hadn't messed up all that badly after all. Cy's eyes met Goob's with that ever-contagious smile of his, and when he saw him, Zed, and Rud do a little grateful bow for their audience, Goob did the same. Skeeter's, of course, was entirely exaggerated, but he couldn't even be mad at his bandmate. He was just glad they'd made it.

_So far_ , something in the back of Goob's mind whispered, and he risked a glance back to their table again. Mr Conasty was there, clapping and nodding with a proud expression on his face… and Cy's dad?

Cy's dad was gone.

Goob took a moment to scan the rest of the hall, but there was no sign of the lawyer with his fancy brown jacket and his pretentious ponytail. And suddenly, plain as day, Goob knew exactly where he was.

"The bathroom", he muttered, surprising Cy who'd just walked up to him.

"What?", Cy asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Dude, you were _awesome_. Killer vocals, I told you. If it weren't so super off-brand I'd have us do some of this stuff with the band once in a while."

For once, Goob was hardly listening to his friend's words. His mind was still racing from what had just happened, from the way Mr Xavier had reacted to their song. Was there a connection? Or was his sudden bathroom break just a coincidence?

Only one way to find out.

"Whatever, Cy. I'll be right back", he said, fully aware of how stupid it was. Of how it was probably just gonna cause way more trouble than it was worth. And yet, at the same time, some part of him felt like he had to do this.

"Huh? Where are you going?"

"The bathroom", Goob repeated with grim determination, and followed Cy's father exactly there.


	6. Chapter 6

Goob, frankly, still had no idea what the hell he was doing. Or, more specifically, what he was gonna do once he reached the bathroom. Cy walking in on one of his breakdowns was one thing, but him, Goob, walking in on Ruben Xavier, of all people, having one?

Maybe he did have a death wish after all.

 _As if he's having a breakdown_ , Goob thought to himself as he headed through the hall. _He doesn't even think depression is real. And one lousy song isn't gonna make an accomplished lawyer go all sappy and shit._ The guy was probably really just taking a bathroom break.

And yet, he couldn't forget Mr Xavier's expression during their performance. The way he'd turned his gaze away first when their eyes had met. There _was_ something going on, and some cursed part of Goob's conscience really wanted to know what it was.

At least none of his bandmates were following him this time.

As soon as he was within sight of the bathroom, Goob forced himself to walk more slowly, to look entirely casual. He braced himself for whatever sight he was gonna be met with, readied himself to open the door.

Someone did that before he could.

Ruben Xavier. Ruben Xavier, exiting the bathroom with his ponytail and outfit immaculately in place, his expression showing no sign of whatever had gone down earlier. As if nothing of the sort had ever happened.

 _Okay, guess I'll forget whatever it was_ , Goob thought with a sudden rush of adrenaline, deciding to turn around and head back to the others.

But of course, that wasn't going to happen.

"Magnus."

Goob froze mid-turn, took a deep breath, and turned back to fully face Mr Xavier again. "Sir."

Could he pretend that he just needed to use the bathroom? No, of course not. Cy's dad knew exactly what he'd come here for, that was easy enough to tell. But the man didn't say anything, just looked at him with his perfectly composed expression, and so Goob decided to ask the one question that wasn't entirely awkward.

"Did you, um. Enjoy our performance?"

Mr Xavier hesitated, but only for a moment. Carefully wording inside his head what he was gonna say, Goob figured. "It was certainly interesting. Not my preferred genre of music, but I suppose it is appropriate for a high school band. Much better than what they played back in my year, for sure."

Goob couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. That meant he and the others could keep hanging out with Cy, right? Or was there a lingering _But_ somewhere?

He was just about to ask when Mr Xavier opened his mouth again.

"I don't suppose it was an original song you were performing. Who wrote it?"

 _Cy_ , Goob thought, but he also knew that he couldn't admit that. As moved as Mr Xavier had been by their song for whatever reason, he wasn't going to appreciate hearing about his son's songwriting interest. "I did, sir."

"Really." The lawyer seemed surprised, sure enough, but was he impressed or appalled? His expression and tone didn't reveal much. Once again, he hesitated, seemingly weighing his options, and then, entirely out of nowhere, he put a hand on Goob's shoulder.

Goob couldn't stop himself from flinching slightly, but at least he managed not to go for an instinctive punch. He didn't say anything either, only let Mr Xavier guide him into a quieter, less public corner of the hallway. The man's grasp wasn't particularly firm, though that didn't mean that it wasn't leaving a more than uneasy feeling in Goob's gut. He didn't have the slightest clue what was about to happen, but he was certain it was nothing good.

When Mr Xavier was sure they weren't going to be interrupted, he - thankfully - let go of Goob's shoulder, but he still stood between him and the way back to the others. Could Goob beat him in a fight if necessary? For sure, though he knew that he wasn't going to try. The lawyer had plenty of ways to get back at him if he did.

"Who did you write it for?", Mr Xavier asked now, his ever-neutral tone hiding whatever he was really thinking. "Your father?"

 _The guy you think is faking his illness?_ , Goob thought, debating just for a moment to actually snap at Cy's dad. There weren't any witnesses here, after all.

But of course, witnesses or not, Mr Xavier wouldn't exactly appreciate it.

"No, not him", Goob said quickly, then immediately wondered what else he was supposed to reply.

While he was silent, Cy's father nodded. "Of course not", he said as if it was obvious. "But who else? One of your bandmates?"

That would be just as bad for their reputation in this guy's eyes, Goob knew. "No", he responded, hating how his nervousness crept into his voice. "I -"

"I see", Mr Xavier said, talking over his last attempt of a sentence. Goob fell silent immediately, and the man paused as well, thinking, raising his eyebrows in sudden realization. "Kenneth", he continued, in a tone that wasn't neutral anymore but still impossible to read. "Of course."

Goob stared at him, a lump in his throat that made it hard to reply or even think. He knew who Mr Xavier was talking about: Kenneth Goober, his grandfather, who'd died plenty of years before Goob had even been born. A car crash, they said. An accident.

Goob doubted that last part sometimes.

"Your father told you about him, didn't he?", Mr Xavier continued, a strange frustration leaking into his otherwise composed voice. "I admire your dedication to your family, Magnus, but your song is of no use to him anymore."

Goob ignored that last part as best as he could. As offended as he knew he was supposed to be, he also couldn't help but feel curious. However little he was probably going to like the answer. "Did - did you know him, too?"

Mr Xavier shook his head in an almost unnoticeable motion. "Barely. He was a friend of my father's, but we never interacted much. I was about your age when he died, as you might know."

 _Just like Dad._ Goob shuddered, but his dread was soon replaced with confusion. _If you know all about this, then why are you so convinced my dad never had any issues?_ That didn't add up, like, at all. But he couldn't just ask, could he?

As he nodded in response to Mr Xavier's words, he kept on thinking. Cy really liked his own grandfather, Goob knew, because that guy was so much more like him than his dad. Whether he himself was in any way like Kenneth, Goob had no idea - other than them sharing the same odd heterochromatic eyes that had skipped a generation in between -, but he could picture painfully well how Cy would react if anything happened to him. And if their grandfathers really had been good friends… maybe _Cherry_ had reminded Mr Xavier of his high school days. Of the time after Kenneth's death.

Maybe, for him, it was a song for himself and his own father more than anything.

Goob found himself gasping at the thought, at this bizarre realization, but just then, Mr Xavier put a hand on his shoulder again. It was firmer this time, warning. "Draw whatever conclusions you like, Magnus. I cannot stop you from that. But if I find you spreading your unsanctioned ideas, to my son or otherwise -"

"I won't, sir", Goob said quickly, belatedly realizing that he probably shouldn't have cut off someone like Ruben Xavier. But he really, really hadn't wanted to hear the end of that sentence. "I won't. I promise."

"Good." The lawyer nodded, letting go of him, and Goob resisted the urge to rub his shoulder where he could still feel the grasp. Mr Xavier turned around, ready to head back to the main hall, and Goob decided to give him a head start so nobody would ask any questions. After a few steps, however, Mr Xavier stopped, glancing back at him over his shoulder. "One more thing, Magnus. You share your eyes with your grandfather. But I strongly suggest you don't share his fate, for your sake and Cyrus's."

With that, Ruben Xavier turned his head once more, and walked back to the rest of their group.

Goob stared after him, at the confident way he had every right to carry himself. He couldn't bring himself to follow him, not until he'd let the chaos in his mind die down at least a little bit. How was he even supposed to process what had just happened? What he'd just - maybe, probably - found out about Cy's dad? And he couldn't even tell Cy about it, because if his father found out, he'd be getting into serious trouble. He'd learned by now that Ruben Xavier wasn't much into bluffing.

He'd just have to sort out his thoughts by himself somehow. Someday. Not right now, in any case.

Goob shook his head to clear it at least a little bit, grimaced, and headed back to the others.

Sure enough, when he reached them again, Mr Xavier wasn't talking to any of them, but to the waitress from earlier, paying their bill and all that.

Cy, on the other hand, was approaching Goob now, and he was glad about that because it at least meant he wouldn't get to hear how much money they'd spent this evening. "Guess what?", Cy asked, with a smile so wide it'd have made Goob a blushing mess on any other occasion. But right now, he was still somewhere else with his thoughts, so he didn't feel nearly as great as he probably should have. "My dad said we did well earlier. And that he'll let us keep hanging together. Isn't that awesome?"

"Yeah", Goob agreed weakly, forcing a more or less reassuring smile onto his face. "That's great news, Cy. I'm glad."

His friend's expression shifted into mild concern. "You okay, man?"

Goob didn't feel like explaining, and besides, he also kind of couldn't. "Just tired", he said. "The kinda shutdown that happens after way too many stressful situations and stuff."

"Can't blame you", Cy admitted sympathetically, finding his smile again. "But for what it's worth, dude, you were amazing today. Not just during the song. I'm proud."

"Yeah, you didn't punch anyone", Skeeter added - quietly, thankfully. He made sure Mr Xavier hadn't heard him, and added, louder, "Your dad's gonna pick you up again, right? Do you mind if I hitch a ride?"

Goob shrugged, too exhausted and still too distracted to argue. "If you don't mind my dad taking forever to get here."

"Eh, I've got time", Skeeter replied, and that was when Goob kind of zoned out. Everything that happened afterwards - Mr Xavier and Mr Conasty thanking them again for the evening, Cy, Rud, and Zed dropping some "See you on Monday"s Goob mechanically returned, their families driving off as he sent his own dad a text message - was pretty much a blur, and he was incredibly grateful Skeeter didn't bother him about it, even if he was sure he'd noticed.

Then, at last, they were all alone on the sidewalk outside the _Lotus_ , and Goob snapped out of his trance after all because Skeeter let out one majorly loud screech of freedom.

"You were holding that in for hours, weren't you?", Goob asked him, only partly annoyed because he was kind of glad about the distraction. About the reminder that this hell of an evening was finally over.

"You bet", Skeeter grinned, opening up his ponytail and letting his hair return to its natural state. "But hey, at least the squid was nice. And I think we were doing pretty well, all things considered - though I was kinda worried you'd lose it that one time. When Cy's dad was saying all that shitty stuff."

"Yeah", Goob said with a sigh. "Thanks for helping me out back there. You didn't have to."

"What can I say, I can't stand assholes. Or you ruining everything by snapping at one." Skeeter shrugged, leaning against a street light that thankfully couldn't illuminate his rhinestones because he was wearing his coat again. Goob had no idea how late it was by now, but the sky above them was dark, at least. "And that guy's a prime example, seriously. Can't believe Cy manages to _live_ with that jerk."

"I guess." Briefly, Goob thought about his private moment with Mr Xavier again, but banished it from his mind before he could dwell on it for too long. He was far too tired and shaken up to even try sorting it all out. "Can you maybe not mention any of this to my dad? I don't really wanna drag him into this. Not at this hour, anyway."

Skeeter nodded. "Sure thing. And hey, there he is."

A familiar shitty old car pulled up beside them, and the two of them flung themselves onto the seats in the back.

"Hey, Mr Goob's dad", Skeeter greeted the driver, and Goob added his own "Hey, Dad" afterwards. 

"Hey, kids." His dad looked at them through the mirror as he took off again. "How was the party?"

Skeeter snorted. "Not much of a party, really. But we were pretty convincing, I'd say."

"Convincing enough, anyway", Goob put in. "Still, let's never do that again."

"Aw, but I liked the squid. I mean, the _calamari_." Skeeter put extra emphasis on that last word, making a meaningful face along with it, and Goob rolled his eyes just as emphatically.

"So the food was great, at least?", his dad asked, and the three of them spent the rest of the drive to Skeeter's place half-joking about how overly fancy the _Lotus_ had been. It was making Goob feel a little bit better, distracting him from all the stuff he didn't really want to think about.

Eventually, they reached Skeeter's street, and Goob's bandmate grinned at him as they came to a stop. "See you at school, Magnus", Skeeter said with a wink, ruffling his friend's exposed-for-once hair before Goob could have stopped him. "And thanks for the ride, Mr Goober."

Goob just groaned something in response, kind of relieved to see Skeeter walk off. His dad started the car again, and of course, he knew his son's facial expressions well by now.

"So, how _did_ it go?", he asked. "Was everything okay?"

"As okay as things can be with Ruben Xavier around", Goob replied, purposefully using his "I don't really want to talk about it" tone. Too much had happened for him to even try to make sense of it all.

His dad accepted his answer, at least for a moment. Then, he asked, "But you guys get to stay a band?"

"Yeah. I still get to hang out with Cy and the others."

That made his dad crack his own kind of weary smile, so different from Cy's and yet so similar. "See? That's a good thing", he said. "And all you've been trying to accomplish. So however awful the stuff was that you had to endure to get there, you made it. And you can be proud of that."

Goob went silent after that, but he knew that his dad was right. Somehow, despite his breakdown and the trouble he'd had controlling himself around Mr Xavier, they had managed to pull off their fake identity. It wasn't just the dumb luck of _Cherry_ hitting that guy conveniently close to home that had allowed them to stay together, but also their - more or less - decent charade back at the table. They'd done it. They'd done it after all.

It took a moment to sink in, but when it did, Goob really did manage to feel the satisfaction, the overwhelming relief of everything. The DoD weren't done for, and neither was his friendship with Cy. Maybe things would even get better for him and Rud from now on, now that their dads knew more about the band. However fake it was.

At last, as Goob thought about it all, he managed a smile, one that was entirely genuine. Exhausted, yes, but genuine.

"I am, Dad", he admitted in response to his father's words. "I really am."


End file.
